


Game, Set, Match

by broedym



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tennis, Angst, DameRey, F/M, Fluff, Kes ships it, Modern AU, Tennis Pro Poe, Tennis Pro Rey, wimbledon au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-10 21:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broedym/pseuds/broedym
Summary: Poe Dameron is playing in his last grand slam tournament before retirement, and he’s almost come to terms with the end of his tennis career. Then a chance encounter with rising champion Rey Jakku has him turned around in a way he least expects, and he’ll never be the same again.





	1. Qualifying Tournament

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the movie Wimbledon, Damerey-style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! The Australian Open is on in Melbourne and I had to write this. I know I said there’d be a sequel to If You Can’t Take the Heat, but it’s tennis time and this is where my mind went. Oops.

Everything hurt. It never used to. In his early career a three-match qualifying tournament was nothing, and he didn’t need a few days to recover. Not that he’d needed to enter any damn qualifying tournaments back then. In those days his ATP ranking meant he was automatically in the main draw.

That was then. Now he was 34 and his shoulder ached and one of his knees had to be iced after every match. But he’d done it, he’d won his qualifying round. And for the 13th time in his career Poe Dameron was competing in the US Open.

Only this year would be the last.

Poe stood in the corner of the stadium room at Flushing Meadows that was filled with players, coaches, managers, sponsors, and everyone else buzzing with excitement for the grand slam event that was commencing the following day. The top seeded players – the ones with the lucrative sponsorships and interviews lined up one after the other – were the superstars of the pre-tournament crush. Not too many were interested in a washed up player in his final, no doubt short-lived campaign.

Sure, there’d been the one interviewer who asked how he felt about being the oldest player in the Men’s Singles main draw, and the sole Guatemalan reporter who was just happy to converse in Spanish with the local boy made good. Beyond that, Poe was ignored. He wasn’t surprised, and doubted he had the energy to play the press game anymore, answering the same inane questions over and over again. Not if he was supposed to answer politely, anyway.

“What do you think your chances are this year?” _Slim to none, thanks for fucking asking._

“How’s the knee holding up?” _Completely shit, as a matter of fact. The surgeon was a hack._

“How does it feel competing against all these young guns?” _I’m thrilled. Takes me back to my younger days. You know, that time a dozen years ago when I wasn’t a novelty inclusion on the circuit._

It was probably for the best that no other reporters wanted to talk to him.

Poe glanced around the crowd and spotted his training partner, Finn, and gave him a nod of greeting. At least there was one person there he didn’t mind talking to. Finn had also won a main draw spot in the qualifiers so they could keep each other company – and keep up their usual training routine – for as long as they remained in the competition.

“Smile, buddy. Show the sponsors how pretty you are,” Finn said as he approached.

“Been there, done that,” replied Poe dully.  “Plenty of prettier faces than mine now.”

“You sound like an old man.”

“Hadn’t you noticed?” Poe pointed a finger at the undeniable gray in his fade haircut. That was a new and fun addition to boost his self esteem.

“Hey, you’re here. We both are! This is exciting,” Finn said with his usual buoyant optimism. “It’s the US Open, man!”

“And you should be out there enjoying it, while you’re young and have a chance to make it through the first round.”

“Don’t worry, I have been. See this?” Finn turned to show him the Nike duffel on his shoulder that was full to bulging. “Full of swag. You gotta get in on this.”

“I’m pacing myself,” Poe replied. The last thing he needed was more tennis gear cluttering up his apartment, especially when he’d have no need of it soon.

“Okay, but don’t leave it too long or all the cool stuff will be gone. I’ll see you around.”

Before he had time to reply Finn was gone. Poe sighed, deciding he may as well head home. Living locally made for an easy commute, and he realized his days living in hotels while on tour were over. For his last competition he could at least stay in his own apartment, away from the other players, the fans, and all the craziness that went along with it.

There was a crowd of people at the elevators when he tried to leave and he soon saw why – Ben Solo had arrived. He was already the talk of the tournament, the highest ranked American at number two, and widely expected to take the title and be crowned top seed once more. The crush of reporters that surrounded Solo and his entourage made Poe turn immediately in the other direction. He had no patience to deal with that – the stairs would have to do.

He hadn’t ever come close to Ben Solo’s ranking and popularity, even in the early, successful years. Still, as lauded as Solo was, Poe didn’t think much of him as a player. He knew a good dose of jealousy clouded that view – the younger man came from obscene wealth, the son of a sitting US senator. That charmed life had spilled over into his success on the court and he already had six grand slam titles to his name, and more than a dozen other championships. Worse, Solo was only 28 – he still had a few good years left where Poe was shit out of luck.

He made his way to the stairwell and on the way spied a platter of sliders that were on offer. Of course none of the players were touching any of the food being carried around. But Poe was hungry and it wasn’t as if he had to watch his diet as soon as the comp was over for him.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said to the waiter, and took a couple of the burgers. With a ‘why not’ shrug he helped himself to a couple more.

With a napkin stacked with meat and cheese goodness, Poe grabbed a bottle of beer from another passing waiter and found the exit. He pushed through the door as he shoved one of the sliders in his mouth, then stopped in his tracks.

A woman was sat on the stairs, phone in hand, and looked up at him in surprise.

“Sprung. You caught me,” she said with a guilty smile and an English accent.

Poe gulped and almost choked on the food in his mouth before recovering enough to apologize.

“Were you looking for a hiding spot as well?” she asked, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind one ear as she smiled up at him.

 _Holy shit._ His brain felt like it was in a fog as he stared at her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, her pale freckled skin, and the branded tracksuit she wore, right down to her matching sneakers. _Holy shit!_

Her phone made a musical trill and she looked back at it. “Oh bugger, now I’m dead. I made it to level 30, too.”

Poe opened his mouth but found he had no words. He told himself to stop staring but it was Rey Jakku. _Rey Jakku_ was actually sitting on the stairs right in front of him. One of the fiercest competitors in the game currently, ranked in the WTA top 5… and one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met.

_Oh fuck, I haven’t even introduced myself._

“I’m sorry. I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.” He tucked the bottle into the crook of his arm and stuck his hand out.

She shook it. “Rey.”

“I know. Everyone knows who you are. You’re Wimbledon champion. You’re amazing.” Poe clamped his stupid mouth shut.

She looked him up and down. “Do you work for USTA or something?”

“What? No, I play. Tennis. I’m a tennis player.” He glanced down at the clothes he was wearing – fewer logos than her, perhaps, but he still looked the part.

Her smile widened to a grin and he realized a few seconds too late that she was messing with him. Now he was blushing like a teenager.

“I wasn’t looking to hide, I was trying to get out of here,” he said as casually as he could. “But if I was trying to hide this seems like a pretty good spot.”

“I can recommend it if you’ve had enough of the circus in there.”

“I had enough years ago.”

She held up her phone. “I just needed some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, right. I can leave…” he offered.

“You don’t need to do that.”

He looked down at the burgers crammed into his fist and wished he hadn’t taken so many. But Rey Jakku was the last person he expected to find in the stairwell.

“I don’t remember seeing you on tour before,” she said, her head cocked as she tried to place him.

 _I’m not surprised_ , he wanted to say. _When I was at the peak of my career you were still in school._

He opted for the less embarrassing route. “I’ve missed a few tournaments lately. Bad knee. Besides, we don’t exactly move in the same circles. I’m the guy on the back court while you’re on center. I’m the one who has to remember his lanyard so I don’t get stopped by an official every five minutes for being in the players’ area. And if I slip up and wear a jacket outside a place like this people toss me their car keys.”

He gave a soft chortle but she just stared at him.

“Like I’m a valet,” he clarified.

“No, I get it,” she replied, straight-faced. “You’re funny.”

“That was actually an example of systemic racism in our society, but okay,” he said mockingly.

She laughed – a completely enchanting sound that brought an instant smile to his lips.

“Mmm, they smell good,” Rey said, nodding at the food.

“Do you—” Poe held out his hand then thought better of it, given he’d been gripping them a little harder than necessary. “I could get you something…”

Rey moved over on the step to make room for him. “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t. I shouldn’t be eating them anyway.”

Poe sat down and she took a slider, taking half in one bite without hesitation.

“Oh my god, so good,” she said with a moan.

Poe ate one as well and gave the last to her. She looked at him to make sure, then finished it off. He offered her the beer next.

“I don’t suppose you drink either?”

Rey shrugged and accepted the bottle. “Nope. And I definitely don’t eat burgers.”

She took a long sip before handing it back to him. Poe smiled to himself and drank too.

“Where are you from?” she asked when he gave the beer to her again.

“Right here. Based in Brooklyn.”

“Ah, you have a hometown advantage. Lucky.”

“Yep, I’m sure that’ll make all the difference,” he said derisively and crossed his fingers. “This just feels like my year.”

Rey laughed again. “You’ll never win with that attitude.”

“Oh yeah, that’s all that’s holding me back. Not my 34-year-old worn out body.” He leaned back with an appraising expression. “How old are you? Twenty-two?”

“Twenty-three,” she corrected primly.

“When you get to be my age you learn that the ‘it’s all in the attitude’ stuff coaches say is bullshit.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Poe smiled to himself. Then, as silence fell between them, he guessed he was close to outstaying his welcome. “I better leave you in peace. How long you gonna hide out here, Jakku?”

She sighed. “I should go back. My agent’s probably looking for me. Then he’ll call my coach and it will be this big thing.”

“Luke Skywalker’s your coach, right?” Poe whistled appreciatively. “What a legend.”

“Also known as a grumpy old misanthrope who’s a complete pain in the bum. But yes,” she said, the affection creeping into her voice, “Luke’s my coach.”

“I remember watching him play when I was a kid, then he sort of disappeared for ages.”

“Well, he’s back now. I’d better go and show my face before he thinks _I’ve_ disappeared.” She stood up and Poe did the same.

“It was nice to meet you, Rey Jakku.” He shook her hand again.

“You too, Poe Dannyrom.”

He glanced at her with a small frown, feeling a tug of disappointment that she still had no idea who he was, or even his name. Then she smiled again, her eyes twinkling.

“I think the Americanism is ‘gotcha’,” she said with a wink.

Poe bit his lip to mask a grin. Rey Jakku was decidedly too cute for words, and other descriptors that he really shouldn’t be thinking about considering who she was. And, more to the point, who he was.

“Good luck out there,” he said instead.

“You too.”

Poe turned to leave, figuring the coast might be a little clearer if he tried the elevators now, when she spoke again.

“Are you going to the Gala tonight?”

He looked at her and blinked.

“At the W?” she added.

“My invitation must have gotten lost.”

In truth he hadn’t even thought about going, or asking his agent about tickets. Maz Kanata probably wouldn’t bother returning his call anyway, given how few sponsorships he had these days. He was hardly worth her time.

“Pity. Guess I won’t see you there. That would have been nice, Poe.” Rey smiled – this time it was softer and, if he wasn’t mistaken, thoroughly sincere – before she brushed past him and returned to the crowded room without another word.

_Holllly shit. Did Rey Jakku ask me out? No, that didn’t happen. She’s British, she was just being polite._

Poe shook his head, cursing his imagination. Alone in a stairwell was one thing but he knew she wouldn’t look at him twice in a ballroom full of other champions who were more her level of success, and her own age.

_Still, she did ask if I was going._

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found Maz’s name in his contacts. Maybe he could do one more party.

It was his last tournament before he retired, after all.


	2. First Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is a woman who knows what she wants. And to Poe’s utter surprise, she apparently wants him.

“Why are we going to this again?” Finn grumbled as he pulled at his too-tight necktie.

“We’re in the main draw, we have every right to be here,” Poe said quickly as he pushed his way through the swarm of people outside the Manhattan hotel.

“We’re both playing tomorrow.”

“So we won’t stay late. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Finn followed him inside where it felt like there were almost as many people. “It’s a party. I’ve been to plenty of parties. I haven’t been to plenty of grand slams.”

“Live a little,” Poe said over his shoulder.

He followed the signs to the main ballroom, feeling his anticipation rise with every passing minute. Poe fronted the desk at the entrance to the Gala and gave the attendant their names. He tapped his foot impatiently as she looked through one list then had to check another before finding them and confirming their table number.

“See?” Poe clapped Finn on the back as they walked through the double doors and saw the extravagant event was in full swing. “Why would you wanna miss this?”

“Sleep is what I’ll be missing. I say we get out of here by ten at the latest.”

Poe wasn’t listening as he scanned the large crowd milling around the dance floor. There had to be close to a hundred tables as well.   

“Poe?” Finn prompted, annoyed. “Ten?”

“Sure, buddy, whatever you say.”

“I bet she isn’t even here. There’s probably some other more exclusive party for the likes of Rey Jakku.”

“Why would she ask if I was going then?”

“Probably felt sorry for you.”

Poe ignored him as they moved further into the room.

“Poe!”

He turned and smiled at the woman approaching him. “Hey, cutie!”

She gave him a swift hug. “I didn’t see you this afternoon. Where were you?”

“I was around,” he replied vaguely. “Rose, this is Finn, my training partner. I don’t think you two have met.”

“Hi, Rose Tico,” she said, shaking Finn’s hand.

“Rose is on the venue team at the stadium now. She and I go way back.”

“Oh yeah? My condolences,” Finn said loudly so she could hear him over the noise of the crowd.

Rose said something back but Poe wasn’t paying attention as he continued to scan through the sea of faces with only one in mind. When he finally spotted her surrounded by a group of players and sponsors, he let out an exasperated breath.

_Idiot. What did you expect, she’d be sat around waiting for you to turn up?_

He turned back to Rose and Finn.

“Listen, Rosie, take care of my boy here, will you? I have to say hello to someone.” Poe pretended he didn’t see Finn’s aggrieved look and left them together.

He moved through the crowd that got thicker the closer he got to the middle of the ballroom and where Rey appeared to be center of attention. He heard her laugh over the din of the party and his steps faltered. Cursing, he realized what he must look like, following her to the Gala after she’d only made a passing comment about it. Within a split second he decided to get the hell out of there before she spotted him.

“Poe! You came!” Rey called out.

He grinned in spite of himself as she pushed through the group she was with – one of whom was Ben Solo, he noticed – before he was concentrating only on her. Her hair was down and she wore a dark blue dress that sparkled when she leaned in to peck his cheek unexpectedly.

“It’s so good to see you. It’s been absolutely ages,” she continued before turning back to the others. “Excuse me everyone, I have to catch up with an old friend.”

“Okay,” Poe mumbled, unsure what was happening and practically struck dumb by how beautiful she looked. And the fact she was paying him any attention at all.

Rey tucked her arm in his and led him towards a table where it was a little quieter. “Thanks for getting me out of there.”

“Aren’t you the smooth liar,” he said.

“God, it’s been a complete snoozefest with that lot, I couldn’t help myself.” She snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing server. “Besides, I owe you a drink for this afternoon.”

They sat at the empty table and Rey let out a quiet groan. “That’s better. These heels are killing me. Cheers.”

They clinked glasses and took a sip, Poe’s eyes never leaving her. Frustratingly he found himself unsure of what to say to her after that. He’d even thought about what he might talk about if he saw her, practicing conversation starters as if she were the first woman he’d ever been infatuated with. Now he couldn't remember any of it.

“I mean it. Thank you for rescuing me,” she said, leaning in so their faces were closer. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“How could I miss this?” he replied with a shrug.

“I know, it’s awful, isn’t it? Standing around making small talk with corporate shills. Or worse, other tennis players.”

Poe didn’t know if he should take it as a compliment or insult that she was talking to him. _I am a goddamn other tennis player, remember?_

“I saw Ben Solo over there,” he said instead. “Isn’t he the golden boy?”

She made a face. “Have you ever met him?”

“Once or twice.” He didn’t add that Solo had beaten him in a dozen matches over the years, and the most he’d ever said to Poe was a mumbled ‘good game’ as they shook hands over the net. Or that the one time Poe won against him was when Solo was a lanky, big-eared 17-year-old in his first regional tournament.

“Do you know him well?” he asked her, chastising himself for feeling preemptively jealous that she obviously did.

“I suppose. It's hard to avoid him. But it’s a bit of a sore spot with Luke being his uncle.”

“That’s right, I forgot.” _Yet another thing to dislike about him, he was part of a tennis dynasty._

“Luke was his first coach but they had a huge falling over Ben going pro too early, and he left him for that Snoke arsehole.”

“Thanksgiving must be fun in that household. Have you met the Senator?”

Rey nodded. “She’s wonderful. She’s visited Luke a few times in London, and they invited us to dinner when we were here last year and Ben was out of town. His father’s nice as well, and stupidly rich.”

Poe didn’t want to talk any more about Ben Solo and switched the conversation to Rey’s travel between the UK and the US where she trained in Florida for half the year in between tournaments. It was easy to talk to her, he found, or at least listen to her. She did most of the talking while he drank the rest of his champagne and couldn’t stop staring at her.

After a while there was a natural lull in the conversation and they found themselves smiling at each other.

“So I wanted to ask your view about something,” she said, cupping her chin in her hand.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. What’s your stance on sex before a match?”

Poe swallowed hard and tried not to get lost in her steady gaze. “Well, generally I’m in favor of sex before just about anything. Why?”

“It’s just some people I know are a bit precious about it. Like their mojo will be drained, or something naff like that. Whereas I always found it a good way to relieve tension.”

By some miracle his voice still worked. “Um, yeah. Tension relieving is good.”

“Well then, excellent.” She beamed at him. “The hotel comped me a room. I bet no one would even miss us until the second course.”

He practically gaped at her. _Smooth._

“Just… wait a second, I’m trying to play catch up here,” Poe managed to say. “You’re Rey Jakku.”

“Yes. I thought we established that already.”

He shook his head, unable to explain himself properly. “You could have anyone at this stupid party. In this city, even.”

“And yet here I am asking you if you want to sleep with me.” She blushed slightly. “Apparently not very effectively.”

“Sorry. Um. You know I’m 34, right? My career’s over.”

“I know who you are, I Googled you,” Rey folded her arms on the table so she could lean in a little closer. “And I’m 23. A fully fledged adult for years now. So? What do you say?”

_Hell yeah!_

Poe still didn’t quite believe it. “Are you’re sure you want to do this? With me.”

“Positive.”

“Okay then. Yes. Yes please,” he said with a grin that he couldn’t smother if he tried.

“Such beautiful manners, Mr. Dameron. I knew I liked you for a reason.” Rey slipped her hand into his. He felt her calloused thumb from years of holding a racket brush his wrist. That, along with the calm, self assured look she gave him was enough to have overwhelming desire pooling in his belly.

They didn’t touch as they crossed the ballroom. He followed behind her at a respectable distance as she responded to greetings from a few people. But she never paused for long, her destination determined. When they reached the elevators she smiled at him and used the room key card to access the 30th floor. They were alone now so Poe closed the distance between them, acutely aware that he hadn’t kissed her yet.

As his nose brushed against her cheek – she stood slightly taller than him in heels – he felt her hand on his chest stopping him. Rey glanced up at the elevator panel where the security camera would be, and shook her head slightly.

_Oh right, she’s famous enough that some gossip rag would probably pay good money for footage of her making out with a random guy on the eve of the US Open._

He took a step back.

“So what did you find out when you Googled me?” he asked as way to distract himself from the enticing pout of her mouth.

“I read your stats. You’re good.”

“You mean I _was_ good.”

Rey ignored the correction. “You won the French and the Australian Open.”

“A long time ago.”

“I realized I’ve even seen you play. Three years ago in Paris.”

 _Great._ “Oh yeah, my first round loss. Good memory.”

“I remember you have a killer serve,” she countered. “But in that game you just seemed to give up when you lost the first two sets. I couldn’t figure out why.”

Poe’s jaw was tight as he ground his teeth together. He did bother explaining that his knee had been a mess for months prior, and that as soon as he’d returned to the US he went under the knife to have it fixed and didn’t play during the year that followed. She wasn’t trying to offend him, he knew that. He also knew that she was young and untroubled by serious injury so far in her career. He hoped for her sake it stayed that way, because the alternative completely sucked.

Rey reached out to give his tie a quick tug. “You play better than you think you do, Poe.”

“I don’t play anywhere near as well as you do. You’re something special, Jakku.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, still not believing his good fortune. “And you’re incredibly beautiful.”

Her cheeks colored in a way they hadn’t when he’d complimented her tennis and she broke his gaze just before the elevator doors opened. When they found the right room she gave him the key card so he could open the door. The room was large, especially by Manhattan standards, and undeniably luxurious in the subdued lamplight. But Poe had eyes only for Rey as she tossed her purse on the bed then faced him while she stepped out of her high heels. When he approached her she waited until the last moment before turning her back to him.

“Can you unzip me?”

Without a word Poe complied. He gently swept aside her hair and, starting at the nape of her long neck, he moved the zipper down slowly over her creamy skin until it stopped just above her rear.

“Thank you,” she murmured and, keeping turned away from him she slipped the gown off her shoulders and the rest of her body, revealing black lacy underwear. The sight had his heart hammering in his chest.

Without acknowledging his reaction – he knew the look on his face had to be thunderstruck – she moved to the closet to hang the dress up.

“Is that an English thing?” he asked lightly. “You have to put your clothes away?”

“We have to go back to the party, remember. We can’t go down there looking like what’s about to happen actually happened.” At that precise moment he didn’t care either way but Rey grew momentarily serious. “I mean it, Poe. No one can know about this.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not because it’s with you, it’s just that since Wimbledon anything I do gets picked up by the press back home. Let’s keep it simple. It’s just a one night thing.”

“Simple’s good,” he agreed, swallowing any disappointment he felt. “Like scratching an itch.”

“Exactly. Now take off your pants.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Can I at least kiss you first please?”

She nodded and they met in the middle of the room. “I do like how polite you are. Especially for an American.” Rey’s hands moved across his chest and under his jacket.

His arms encircled her bare waist and back and Poe touched his lips gently to hers, stopping only to tilt his face for better access before kissing her again. She made a low noise in her throat which inspired him to try different angle and he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips which parted effortlessly. As he explored her mouth she pushed his jacket from his shoulders, apparently not caring if it became wrinkled when she let it slip to the carpeted floor. His tie quickly followed and she was making short work of his shirt buttons while they kissed, then his brain caught up with his body.

He pulled away from her and swore under his breath. Rey frowned in confusion.

“Sorry. I don’t have anything...not on me. I need to run downstairs.” Poe cursed his lack of preparedness. Earlier the idea that he’d find himself about to have sex with Rey Jakku was so far from reality that it might as well have been in another galaxy.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it sorted.” She resumed kissing him and his shirt was soon pooled on top of his jacket.

When she stepped away from him to pull the covers down the king sized bed he took a moment to follow her lead and pick up his clothes. He laid them over a chair, followed by his pants. Rey nodded approvingly at the sight before she stripped off her bra and panties, not waiting for him, and slipped between the sheets. Poe fumbled only slightly as he made quick work of his shoes and socks, balancing on one leg while his left knee twinged in protest. He was naked when he joined her in the bed, his body hovering over the length of her as he kissed her deeply again.

Next he lavished attention on her neck which elicited new and appealing noises, followed by a hitching of breath when he took one nipple into his mouth and experimented with his tongue and teeth to determine what she liked best before moving to her other breast. He took his time kissing down the flat planes of her body, feeling the muscles tense under his touch. Poe nestled in as he continued his journey and her strong thighs squeezed tight either side of him while her short fingernails scraped against his scalp. When he finally he made it to the neatly trimmed hair between her legs and dropped his face in close there was an impatient tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she asked a little petulantly.

Poe blinked up at her in surprise and licked his bottom lip.

“We need to get back downstairs soon,” she stated, but it sounded more like an order. “There isn’t time for that.”

He smirked automatically, having always prided himself on how quickly he could bring a woman to orgasm with just his mouth. But apparently Rey wasn’t interested.

“I just thought it would better for you,” he murmured, planting a warm kiss on her inner thigh and delighting in the involuntary twitch of her muscles.

“It’s a nice thought but I haven’t got all night.” She reached over to the nightstand for her purse and retrieved a condom and a small tube of lube.

“What else have you got in there?” he asked as he took them from her.

“A lady never reveals her secrets.”

He chuckled against her skin as he moved back to kiss her. Rey’s hand was between them and she curled her fingers around him.

Poe recalled he was never one to argue with a lady.

 

O O O

 

As he stood on the court the next afternoon on the first day of the US Open, Poe remembered the importance of sleep before a match. And stretching properly before having sex with a professional athlete. He’d done neither, and he felt a spasm in his lower back from his exertions.

_Great, what a way to end your career, champ. Out in the first round of your last grand slam because of a sex injury._

His mind swam with the lasting memory of Rey riding him until he just about blacked out when he came. He allowed himself to think about her, at least for a moment, while his 19-year-old opponent nervously pocketed a few balls and psyched himself up to serve. Poe shook his head to remove the distracting images from the previous night and reminded himself what he was supposed to be doing.

_Get it together, man._

His muscles were stiff and his running a little sluggish, but fortunately the kid made enough unforced errors while succumbing to the pressures of a big tournament that allowed Poe to carry the match in straight sets. He knew he got a lucky draw and felt like just about any other player could have wiped the court with him. But he didn’t think about that as he acknowledged the applause from the spectators. He had won, and he was through to the second round.

He wanted to text Rey with the news, until he remembered she had her own match to prepare for the next night and he didn’t want to intrude. He also knew he couldn’t tell her what he really wanted to, because that would be wrong.

_Thanks for the mind blowing sex. Call me anytime you need that particular itch scratched._

Instead he’d done the proper thing and called her that morning, after making sure he got her number before they returned to the Gala and he had to eat dinner with Finn on the other side of the room, pretending like nothing had happened. Poe had left an attempt at a humorous message on her voicemail, and that was it. He wouldn’t text her about getting through to the next round, or suggest they get together for a drink sometime. She’d said it was a one night thing and he would respect that.

In a futile attempt to take his mind off her he went out that night to celebrate with Finn who’d also won his match, and they met up with Rose and a few of her USTA co-workers.

And he pretended he wasn’t checking his phone every few minutes in case Rey called back or sent him a message. Which she never did.

 

O O O

 

Poe asked Rose, completely casually, whether or not she could get him tickets to Rey’s first match the following night. She let him into a staff area with a decent view of the court and he dragged Finn along with him again. Finn assumed he was still pining after her (which wasn’t completely inaccurate) and only brightened up when Rose joined them. They kept each other company while Poe concentrated on the game.

She really was incredible on the court. Fast, powerful, with a backhand that he’d hate to have to face. She was also fiery, and was not shy about making her feelings known if she disagreed with the umpire. She was warned a couple of times for comments that still sounded adorable in her accent, at least to him.

After the match which Rey won easily, he begged off going to get something to eat with Finn and Rose and was heading home when his phone pinged.

 

 **Rey Jakku**  
Hi.  
I heard you won yesterday.  
Congratulations.

 

Poe felt a surge of excitement and relief at the sight of her name, and hastily tapped a reply.

 

Thanks, you too

 

Did you see mine?

 

I caught some of it  
_(Liar. You watched every ball.)_

 

What are you up to?

 

Nothing

 

Poe stared at his phone as the reply dots appeared for a few seconds then disappeared from his screen. _Fuck._ He knew he should have made something up, anything, rather than have her think he was a loser with nothing going on. (Even if that were arguably true.)

After a few agonizing minutes his phone pinged again.

 **Rey Jakku  
** I have to do post match press.  
Then I’m going to order room service and have an early night.

 

Probably a good idea

 

Want to join me?

 

 _(Play it cool, Dameron.)  
_Is the food any good?

 

The pasta’s okay.  
The sex is better TBH.

 

Where are you staying?  
What time should I be there?  
Do they have carbonara?

 

Have to go up now.  
Will text you the details in a bit.

 

OK

 

Poe knew he was grinning like an idiot but he didn’t give a damn, not when he'd be seeing Rey again. 

 


	3. Second Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much for it being a one night thing. But Poe isn’t about to question it.

Poe woke in a strange bed all alone, not for the first time. Within a couple of seconds he remembered where he was and smiled lazily. A room service cart with leftover plates of pasta was in the corner of the bedroom, the remnants of their meal that they’d eaten cold after Rey pounced on him the moment he arrived.

In truth he’d been just as eager for a repeat performance of the night of the Gala. She had left an envelope with her room card at the hotel reception so he could let himself up, and answered the door to her suite fresh from the shower.

“I’ve already ordered dinner, I hope you’re hungry,” she said by way of greeting, her skin glowing pink from the hot water – the bits that weren’t covered by her robe anyway.

“Starving,” he replied, staring at her unashamedly. His eyes flicked to her lips.

He wasn’t quite sure who kissed who first but within seconds he was pushed hard up against the door, her tongue was in his mouth, and his brain switched off.

The sound of the door chime was a rude interruption that Poe would have happily ignored but she asked him to get it while she put some clothes on.

“Are you sure?” he said. “I don’t want to sully your reputation.”

Rey grinned and disappeared into the bedroom while Poe turned to open the door.

“Room service,” the waiter said as he wheeled in a whole cart full of covered dishes. “Where would you like it, sir?”

“Um, over there’s fine.” Poe scribbled an indecipherable name on the bill and gave the guy a twenty at the door. It was a fancy hotel, after all, and maybe he wouldn’t mention the man in Rey Jakku’s room to anyone if he tipped well.

Poe unlidded one of the dishes but was soon distracted by Rey’s return in a long white t-shirt and nothing else.

“No fair,” he groaned. “We’re supposed to just sit and eat now?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “I mean, we could always eat later.”

Which is exactly what they did, reclined comfortably in the rumpled sheets after they’d satisfied more pressing urges. He realized Rey had sex like she played tennis – hard and fast, and with impressive skill. (Poe was grateful that her noises were completely different though, given how loud she grunted on court...that would just be a distraction.) He liked that she had no problem verbalizing exactly what she wanted.

But as amazing as she was in bed, he really liked the fact that they were getting to know each other better. While they ate she asked about his childhood and listened intently as he talked about how his mother had been an amateur tennis champion and had taught him the game. (He didn’t dwell on her death when he was eight, or the years that followed when his father had insisted he keep playing when all he wanted to do was give it up.) She peppered him with questions about his time at Ohio State before he dropped out to turn pro. Poe noticed that she said little about her own childhood and didn’t press her on the issue. She was clearly comfortable talking about her career, and he was just happy that she shared anything at all with him.

They’d talked (among other things) well into the early morning. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, figuring that was not the sort of thing she wanted. So he wasn’t surprised when he woke to find the other side of the bed empty. Poe sat up and squinted against the light streaming through the large hotel windows.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Rey said as she came into the bedroom and began straightening up. She was dressed in running gear and sneakers, not the t-shirt from the previous night which he liked a lot better.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”

“Seven. I’m meeting Luke for a training session.”

He wanted nothing more that to coax her back into bed but Rey’s aloof tone deterred him.

“Aren’t you tired?” Poe calculated they’d had less than four hours’ sleep. Rey looked none the worse for wear but he was wrecked.

She glanced at him through the dresser mirror as she tied her hair up and didn’t bother answering.

“Well, thanks for dinner,” he commented when it was obvious she was waiting for him to leave.

“Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time,” he said, and meant it.

She looked at her watch. “I have to go.” The rest of the sentence was unspoken.

“Yeah, me too. I’ll get out of here.”

Rey looked relieved and moved to plant a quick kiss on his mouth. She was gone from the bedroom before he could respond.

Poe sat there for a moment. “Oh wait, your key card is in my jeans pocket,” he called out.

She appeared at the open doorway. “Keep it, you might need it later.”  

Rey threw him a grin before she left again. As the room door close with a thud Poe flopped back onto the mound of pillows and sighed contentedly.

 

O O O

 

He ran up the steps of the subway, feeling more energized than he had any right to, and grabbed a coffee at his local place before walking the rest of the distance to his apartment. On the way Poe dug his phone out of his pocket.

“Hola papá,” he said cheerily.

“Poe, is that you?”

“My name’s on your phone, Kes, you know it’s me.”

“Eh, I don’t have my glasses. How are you feeling ahead of tomorrow?”

“I feel great.” Poe didn’t elaborate as to the cause of his good mood which had nothing to do with his second round match. “That’s why I’m calling, to see if you’ll come.”

He heard Kes swearing in Spanish on the other end of the call. Poe had no idea why he was still so superstitious when it came to attending his games. For all of the thousands of practice sessions he’d taken him to, Kes had not come to any of his matches after he turned professional. He argued it was too stressful, especially when Poe was doing well and seeded in the top 10. That kind of pressure was a thing of the past, he’d repeatedly told his father, but still Kes wouldn’t go.

“So listen, you know this is my final tournament. This match could be my last one ever.” Poe was a pragmatist, and he knew his time in the competition was limited.

“Hush, don’t say that.”

“I’m retiring, pa. It’s time.”

“Let’s just see how it goes.”

Poe knew what that meant, but he still tried. “I’ll leave a ticket at the gate. I’d really like it if you were there.”

“I have to go, I have deliveries. I’ll talk to you later.”

He didn’t have a chance to ask how business was at the bar before Kes had hung up.

 

O O O

 

That afternoon he kept his usual training session with Finn at the practice courts at Flushing Meadows. They were both in the second round and Poe knew he had to spend a bit more time on his tennis and less time thinking about Rey so as not to embarrass himself completely in his next match. He had no desire to bomb out of the competition because he was infatuated with a woman who was completely out of his league.

Despite his lack of sleep he was actually feeling pretty good, and his knee was holding up as they ran through a few full games. He even managed to win more points than usual against Finn which always made him feel better given their age difference.

“What happened to you last night? Why didn’t you want to go to dinner with Rose and me?” asked Finn when they switched to the automatic Big Ball machine so Poe could practice forearm shots.

Poe hadn’t put much thought into a plausible alibi so he evaded the question.

“What did you do to BB?” he griped after a particularly savage delivery from the machine that he almost had to dive for.

“Just trying to keep things interesting for you,” Finn said and made another adjustment to the settings. He took up his position by the net to watch Poe’s drills. “So, last night?”

“I just didn’t feel like it.”

“That wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain English girl, would it? Seriously, dude, get it together. She’s not interested in you. It was bad enough when you abandoned me at the Gala looking for her. But don’t start flaking on your friends because you’re hung up on someone like that. It’s never going to happen.”

Poe concentrated on the balls firing at him and bit back the temptation to confirm it had already happened three times. _Four for her._

“Didn’t you have a good time with Rose?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, Rose is great.”

“Then stop complaining.” Poe was out of breath by the time BB’s cycle had run through and it was Finn’s turn.

And though he tried not to, he was soon thinking about when and how he could see Rey again.

 

O O O

 

Poe’s second round match was nothing like the first. It was uncomfortably hot and humid on the court. His South Korean opponent made him work for every point, and he was one set down going into the fourth. Unsurprisingly his Dad had failed to turn up, and Finn was playing on another court at the time. He was used to not having close friends or family or even his damn agent there to support him, but it still stung a little given it was all almost over.

As he got up from the changeover prior to the fourth set Poe looked into the crowd and was shocked to see one familiar face near the players’ entrance. Rey pulled off her sunglasses to grin at him and waved. He fought the temptation to return the gesture that could draw unwanted attention to her, and had to settle for smiling to himself as he took to the court and prepared to serve again.

First up: Ace.

_Ha! Still got it._

Maybe it was showing off for her, or maybe it was just the fact that she’d shown up to watch him play at all... Poe wasn’t sure, but he focused more intently and ignored any aches and twinges in his body. Above all, he found himself feeling the burning desire to win that he’d lost somewhere along the way.

It took another two sets, both hard fought, until he prevailed. Poe was trying to catch his breath as he raised his racket in acknowledgment of the crowd’s applause, his gaze immediately returning to Rey where she was clapping along with everyone else. She was beaming and gave him a pointed nod of recognition that made him feel even prouder.

By the time he shook hands with his opponent and the umpire she was gone. He hoped he hadn’t hallucinated her because he was dehydrated.

Poe fronted up to his post-match press conference where he noticed a few more reporters and cameras than his first round. Still not exactly standing room only but a definite improvement.

“Did you expect to make it to the third round?” someone called out.

“Absolutely,” he lied.

“Where’s your coach?”

“Probably on a beach in the Bahamas where he retired to,” he replied which resulted in a few laughs.

_Yes, it’s hilarious. I don’t even have a coach anymore. Because no one thought I’d get here again, including me._

Poe got through the rest of the questions without making too many sarcastic comments, and was ready to go home and pass out when his phone rang. He expected it to be Kes who’d finally checked the results, but saw Rey’s name instead.

“Hey,” he said, hoping it sounded more casual and less giddy than he felt.

“Told you.”

Poe took a seat in the locker room and stretched out his stiffening legs. He managed to hold in a groan as his muscles protested the movement. “Told me what?”

“You play better than you think you do.”

“I just played five sets and I can barely walk.” _Yeah, that’ll get her hot. Idiot._

“Poor you. But you’re in the third round.”

“I know, it’s a miracle.” Poe dropped the self-deprecating tone and settled on a more sincere one. “Thanks for coming to watch me.”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

He knew she’d probably skipped out on training to do it which made him appreciate it all the more. He was definitely ready to return the favor.

“When are you playing tomorrow?”

“Eleven. Which means I’ll be free all night afterwards.”

The endorphins still pumping through his body had nothing to do with the immediate feeling of euphoria he experienced. _Oh, you’ve got it bad, son._

“Does that mean I can take you to dinner?” he asked hopefully.

“No room service?”

“I think we can do better than cold pasta.” When she didn’t answer immediately he added, “I know a place that’s out of the way. No one will see us.”

“Okay, I guess if that’s what it takes. We can still have sex after, right?”

“I _suppose_ so.” Poe grinned when he heard her chuckle before she abruptly hung up. He forgot to wish her luck for her match, not that she needed it.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Finn asked when he came in from the showers and found Poe still sitting on the bench a full five minutes later.

He tucked his phone into his pocket. “Nothing. Hey congratulations, buddy, you got through to the third round!”

“Yep. I just got my next draw.” Finn sat down next to him, a towel draped around his shoulders.

“Who’d you get?”

“You.” Finn smiled grimly.

Poe’s face fell. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

They had played against each other in the past few years since they’d started training together, but never in a grand slam.

“Look on the bright side,” Finn said, “at least one of us will get through to the fourth.”

The idea brought Poe no comfort.

 

O O O

 

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” Rey asked the next night after he’d met her at his favorite dumpling place.

“He’s my training partner.” While he was happy to see her again, the nagging feeling about his next match hadn’t left him.

“That just means you know exactly how to beat him,” she argued.

“He’s almost eight years younger than me. So assuming I can even win, I’m not going to feel great about knocking my friend out of the tournament. He’s worked hard to get here.”

“And you haven’t? Someone has to lose, that’s how it works.” Rey shook her head, seemingly unable to understand his predicament. “This is exactly why I don’t have friends in tennis.”

He quirked an eyebrow. He knew her fierce reputation on the circuit, everyone did. “That’s why?”

“Yes, smart arse. I’ll have you know I had loads of friends before. I just don’t have time for it right now. I have to concentrate on my tennis.”

“We’re friends,” he pointed out.

She shook her head. “We have sex.”

“You’ve never had sex with someone you’re friends with?”

“No,” she said, perhaps a little too honestly. “I don’t have time for relationships. Luke says they’re a distraction.”

Poe didn’t know about that but it wasn’t as if he was any authority, not when he’d failed at every long term relationship of his own. Constant travel made it difficult, and (as he’d been told by multiple partners) his self-centeredness and focus on the game made it impossible.

“What about after you stop playing?” Poe asked, then realized he’d barely thought about it himself though retirement was only one loss away for him.

“Maybe. I mean, I don’t even know if I want that,” she said dismissively.

“You don’t want a family of your own some day? Pass on those incredible genes?” He smiled at her but she didn’t respond in kind. He began to wonder if he’d said the wrong thing when she shrugged.

“All of that’s a long way off. I have the other three majors to win before I even think about it. And I want to be world number one.”

 _What if you don’t?_ Poe wanted to say. _What if, like most of us, you never get there?_ But he didn’t, because he liked her too much to take that away from her.

“That reminds me, we didn’t toast your win today,” he said and they clinked their beer bottles together. He’d watched from the stands as she completely outplayed her opponent, once again marveling at her superior talent and power. “We should do something to celebrate.”

“It’s just the third round,” she replied, as only a player of her caliber could. He felt like he was barely holding on but these early matches were just her warm-up. Suddenly her eyes lit up. “Can we go to the movies?”

“Really?” He’d been thinking more along the lines of going back to her hotel and fucking her all night. Or, realistically, fucking her once before he’d need a nice long nap. _Yep._

She nodded enthusiastically. “I never go to the cinema. Can we go?”

He gazed indulgently at her, as if he wouldn’t do anything she asked. “Yes, we can go to the movies. What do you want to see?”

“I don’t care, I just want one of those stupidly huge soft drinks you have in this country, and an over-sized bucket of popcorn!”

“You’re a very strange person, Jakku,” he said with a snort. “We could do anything and _that’s_ how you want to celebrate your win?”

“Uh huh.”

“Come on then.”

Less than an hour later they were sitting in the half empty multiplex at the late night showing of a mindless comedy that he’d already forgotten the name of. But Poe didn’t care a bit as Rey nestled into his side, shoving handfuls of popcorn into her mouth despite having just eaten dinner, and laughing out loud at the stupid plot. He wasn’t paying attention to the movie – he was more than content to be so close to her, and forgot all about tennis and his match against Finn. It was shocking to him how little any of it seemed to matter when he was with her, considering he’d known her for such a short time.

“Don’t you like it?” she whispered and he realized Rey was looking at him and not the screen.

He nodded absently but she appeared to have some inkling as to what was distracting him when she licked at the corner of her mouth then leaned in to kiss him. She tasted of salt and butter flavoring, a heady combination that took him back to his youth. His arm tightened around her and his other hand cupped her jaw as he kissed her back. Soon the cardboard container was being crushed between them when he pulled her even closer and they really were making out like teenagers.

Before things got too heated they abandoned the idea of watching any more of the movie and returned to her hotel. They didn’t speak during the cab ride and Rey kept her distance, just as she did while they walked through the lobby. But once they were upstairs in the suite her hands and mouth were on him again before they said another word to each other.

Their movements were practically frenzied as they freed each other from their clothes and Rey pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. Poe’s eyes clamped shut involuntarily when she ground her hips against him until he stopped her.

“Rey,” he groaned. “Wait.”

She didn’t respond and pressed her bare chest against his, her tongue grazing over the raised tendon on the column of his throat.

“I need to ask you something,” he tried again.

She moaned quietly against his ear but didn’t stop her distracting efforts until he stilled her hips by holding her waist firmly. Her eyes were hungry and impatient when she pulled back enough to look at him.

“What?”

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

She looked confused. “No. Why?”

“No Gala to get back to?”

“What are you talking about?”

Poe smirked at her. “Then we have time now.”

Rey squeaked as he flipped them over without warning. He kissed her once, long and deep, before his mouth trailed a path down her torso and he settled between her legs.

“God, you’re perfect,” he said as he gazed up the length of her toned body to her eyes which were watching him intently, her face and chest flushed. His fingertips grazed over her soft folds and her breath hitched. “May I?”

“Since you asked so politely.” Her words were light but the last one caught in her throat when he touched her again. She stopped forming complete words when his mouth replace his hand.

Before long Rey was breathing hard while she rode out her climax, two of his fingers still hitched inside her. Poe repositioned himself and hummed quietly as he kissed her neck and she quivered around them.

“Bloody hell. I have definitely never done that with a friend,” she managed to say after a minute.

“You need some new friends,” he murmured against her hot skin and Rey started laughing.

 


	4. Third Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Finn go head to head, and then he and Rey experience a little dose of reality.

It had been nearly two full days since Poe had seen her and he felt like an addict going through withdrawals. After their night at the movies Rey let him know she was training with Luke all day and when he’d tried to see her the next night there was no reply until close to midnight when she got back from dinner with a potential sponsor. By that stage she was tired, he was at home, and he went to sleep frustrated and lonely.

He knew he was getting into dangerous territory with Rey. _Who are you kidding? You’re already there._

Poe knew it for sure when he and Finn walked out onto the court for their third round match and he scrutinized the spectators in search of her. He didn’t find her before he had to concentrate on serving, and couldn’t deny the disappointment he felt that she wasn’t there. It was unrealistic to think she would be, he knew that, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He also hadn’t slept well all week and had been stupidly lax about training.

Poe was angry at himself for his own imminent demise, especially after Finn broke his serve in the very first game and he lost the set 6–2.

It wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Poe had been a professional tennis player since he was 19, and a junior champion before that. It was all he knew and he had loved it, once. He knew how to compete and he knew how to fight, and now he tried to muster up the last shred that remained to at least go out well.

It was 1–0 in the second set as Poe prepared to serve. He gripped his racket and bounced the ball, slowing down his breathing, when he recalled Rey’s words. _You know exactly how to beat him._ And that was it, he actually did. Poe knew every weakness in Finn’s game, it was just a matter of exploiting them. _Make him use his less polished backhand. Don’t allow him to outrun you, take the point before he has a chance._

Poe didn’t see Finn at the other end of the court. He blocked out their years of friendship and imagined he was just another opponent. A younger, fitter opponent for sure, but Poe had come up against them all his career. So he focused on each serve, each rally, and before long had eked out a 7–6 win in the second set, and then took the third 6–3.

He just needed one more to be through to the fourth round. Poe’s thoughts and senses narrowed until all he saw was the ball, the net and the lines. All he heard was his own breathing and the point calls, not the crowd. It was almost like playing underwater except his actions were sharp and responsive. They played on until there was a loud roar and Poe realized what he’d heard.

“Match – Dameron.”

His head dropped for a second as relief flooded through him and the spectators cheered. Then Poe ran straight to the net where Finn was and hugged him tightly.

“You did it, old man,” Finn said into his ear and slapped him on the back. “That was a helluva match.”

Poe continue gripping his friend’s shoulder as they walked over to the chair umpire, then he turned and raised his racket to the crowd that was still applauding.

After that it was a blur. He barely had a chance to talk to Finn before he was in another press conference answering more questions than he’d been asked before. There were still the familiar ones about his age and what he thought his chances were, but they started asking his opinion of other players who had also advanced including Ben Solo. Poe had no idea what to think about anyone else, honestly still surprised at his own performance so far.

He wrapped things up as quickly as he could and was going in search of Finn when he heard a booming voice from across the room.

“Poe Dameron! There you are!”

He turned around to find its source in the form of his erstwhile agent, Maz Kanata. She pushed through the loitering reporters, her harried assistant in tow.

“Sorry I’m late, my beautiful boy,” she said loudly. “I missed your presser.”

Poe frowned as he bent to kiss her wrinkled cheek. “You haven’t been to one of my press conferences in how many years?”

“You haven’t had to give many,” she countered, peering at him through thick lenses. “But I’m here now.”

_Touché, can’t argue with that._

“What do you want, Maz?”

“It’s not what _I_ want, dear boy, it’s what you do. We have much to discuss.” She took his arm to lead him away from the reporters and cameras.

Maz was a stalwart of the sport. No one knew how old she actually was, she’d just always been there. She had an eye for young talent and prided herself on picking champions for clients. Poe had been with her since he was 21, and even though he hadn’t quite lived up to her lofty expectations, she still kept him on her books. A little more passively than he would have liked, perhaps, but it wasn’t as if there were other agents lining up to sign him.

“So now, my clever boyfriend,” she said in a gravelly voice from her pack a day habit, “you’re through to the fourth round. Then, straight into the quarterfinals! We need to harness this resurgence.”

“ _If_ I get through to the quarterfinals,” Poe countered. “I don’t even have my next draw yet. It’s probably Ben fucking Solo, knowing my luck.”

“Oh, the calls I’ve already had about you,” she said, ignoring him. “The sponsors are interested again. Television, newspapers – they all want to know about you.”

“You mean because I’m a novelty, the oldest guy in the comp.”

“There’s even talk of an all American final if you make it that far. But first things first...” She snapped her fingers at her assistant until he produced an invitation from his thick compendium. Maz handed it to Poe. “We need to get you in front of the sponsors. There’s a party tonight and you’re going.”

He held up his hands in protest. “No thanks, I don’t do sponsor events anymore.”

“You do if you want to get signed.”

He sighed plaintively. “Maz, I’m retiring. You’d know this if you ever returned my calls. I even announced it at my press conference after the first round.”

“Well, isn’t it fortunate that hardly anyone was there to hear it,” she said smoothly. “Here are the details, I’ll see you there. And wear a nice suit, we have work to do.”

Before he could argue Maz and her assistant were gone, and Poe was left standing there. Swearing under his breath, he decided to worry about it later. On his way to the players’ area to talk to Finn he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket.

 **Rey Jakku**  
I just saw the recap on TV.  
That last ace was perfection.

Poe knew her next match was the following night so of course she hadn’t come to watch him in person. He settled for replying with a simple “thanks” and didn’t say any more. He didn’t feel like celebrating or flirting with her, not with Finn losing his place or Maz’s reinsertion in his life. Poe also didn’t want to think about her more than he already was, and it was only getting worse each time he saw her. If he had any chance of progressing he needed to get his head straight. His phone pinged again.

 

Sorry about your friend.  
But I’m glad you won.

 

Yeah

 

What are you doing now?

 

PT for my knee

 

Later?

 

He hesitated, knowing it would be easy to blow off Maz and the tedious sponsors. Poe doubted they had any real interest in him anyway, especially as he was about to leave the game. But nothing would change if he just kept hooking up with her.

 

I’ve got some stuff I gotta do tonight

 

OK.

 

Good luck tomorrow

 

Thx.

 

Poe sighed and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

 

O O O

 

His newfound resolve crumbled within two minutes of arriving at the sponsor cocktail party when he saw Rey there with a tall red-haired man. Poe knew he was supposed to find Maz but he made a beeline for her instead. _Like the weak fool you are._

“Hi,” he said when he fronted up to them.

Her look of surprise was quickly replaced with confusion. “Hi. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

“Neither did I. It’s been a while since I’ve been invited to this sort of thing.”

Rey smiled and touched the arm of the man beside her. “Poe, this is my agent, Armitage Hux. Poe Dameron.”

“Ah yes, you’re that fellow I’ve been hearing about today,” Hux said in a clipped English accent as they shook hands. “Well done.”

“Thanks.” Poe recognized bullshit when he heard it. Hux was already looking around the room for someone more important for her to be talking to.

Sure enough after a moment Hux gave a polite cough. “Rey, darling, we should really go and meet the UA people.”

“You go on, I’ll be there in a minute.” Rey nodded at him when Hux looked reluctant to leave her, and with a final blank look at Poe he walked away.

Poe quirked an eyebrow. “Darling?”

“He calls everyone that,” she said. “He’s a complete wanker but he’s terribly good at what he does. My contract with Nike is up in January so it’s all about the renegotiation at the moment.”

Poe pretended he knew all about it, though the days of big sponsors fighting over him were long gone.

“So this is what you had to do tonight?” Rey asked, and he didn’t miss the hint of amusement in her tone.

“My agent made me come. I don’t know why, I’m no good at any of this shit.”

“Nor am I,” she admitted. “At least we got to see each other.”

“Highlight of my night.” Poe smiled when she did and he wondered if she knew that it was the absolute truth and not just a line.

The familiar tightening of his chest was a reminder of just how easily she got to him. And how much he wanted her. She looked incredible as usual in a tight black dress and silver heels. But it was her smile that was his undoing, and the way her eyes seemed to sparkle when she gazed at him.

“So listen, do you—” he stopped when they heard another voice.

“Rey.”

They turned to find Ben Solo approaching them clutching a glass of orange juice. He towered over both of them in a dark suit that matched his shoulder length hair, looking just as intense as he did on the court.

Rey mumbled a hello as he bent to kiss her cheeks. “Ben, do you know Poe Dameron?”

“Oh yeah,” he said unconvincingly. “Hey man.”

“Hey.” Poe gripped his hand a little harder than necessary when they shook.

Ben’s attention returned to Rey. “I thought you hated events like these.”

“I do. Needs must, I suppose. That’s what Armie says, anyway.”

A waiter arrived with a tray of drinks and she and Poe helped themselves to champagne. She took a sip and glanced at him as if it were his turn to say something because she’d done her duty. Ben had other ideas.

“I haven’t seen you since the other night at the W, but I’ve been following your wins.”  

“Thank you,” Rey said through a tight smile. “Poe’s already through to the fourth round.”

Ben gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement. “Then by tomorrow night that’ll be all three of us.”

“Cheers!” Poe offered up a little too enthusiastically and Rey snorted softly as they clinked their glasses together.

“So I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Ben went on, not to be put off. “I thought maybe we could catch up—”

“Oh, _there_ he is!” Rey said brightly, her attention drawn to the far side of the room. “I wondered where Luke got to. Sorry, Ben, you were saying we should all catch up?”

“Sure. Yeah. Maybe later. I better go find my team.” Ben was glowering as he tried to surreptitiously check where she’d been looking. “Good luck to you.”

When he walked away in the opposite direction Rey sniggered. “Works every time. As if Luke would be caught dead at one of these events. Ben’s still too chickenshit to face him.”

“Nicely played,” Poe said admiringly.

“Why thank you,” she replied with a mocking bow of her head. They shared another grin until she rolled her eyes. “God, do we really have to stay here?”

“Don’t you need to find your agent?” Poe looked around for him, and he was hard to miss. “Huh. My agent is talking to your agent.”

They looked over at Hux and Maz who were having an animated conversation about something. The height difference between them was comical.  

“I need some real food, not these miniscule canapés,” Rey grumbled. “We should make a break for it while they’re distracted.”

Poe assumed she was joking until he saw the determined expression on her face.

“Come on, let’s go,” she urged, nudging him towards the exit.

He didn’t need convincing. They walked from the room as swiftly as they dared without being too obvious, and once outside the hotel he led the way around the block so they wouldn’t be spotted.

“Should we get a cab?” he suggested. “Where do you want to go?”

Rey took a deep breath of the warm night air. “I don’t know, but let’s walk. It’s so nice out.”

“Okay, what do you want to eat? Choice is yours.” And it really was – they were in Manhattan which meant every cuisine imaginable was available.

She thought about it for a moment. “I want a hot dog.”

Poe’s eyes narrowed. “No you don’t. There are two dozen great restaurants within five minutes walk of here.”

“I do! I’m in New York and I want a hot dog.”

She wasn’t giving in no matter how much he argued. So Poe took her to Gray’s Papaya and dropped less than ten bucks on hot dogs and drinks for both of them which they ate as they continued strolling.

“See?” Rey said as she licked some ketchup off her top lip. “This is perfect.”

Poe shook his head as he side-eyed her. “I cannot figure you out.”

“What? I’m a simple girl with simple tastes.”

“You are anything but simple.” He was rewarded with a dazzling smile that took his breath away, and Rey knocked her shoulder against his.

They walked another block with no destination in mind until Poe stopped. As much as he didn’t want to end the night he knew they both had obligations they were missing.

“Do you think we should head back?” he asked.

Rey quickly shook her head. “I really don’t. I’ll apologize to Armie in the morning. What about you?”

“I didn’t want to go in the first place. I’m sure Maz will forgive me.” Poe looked down at his feet. “I should get you back to your hotel.”

“So chivalrous. I’m sure I could manage it on my own if you have better things to do.”

“Definitely not.” He held out his hand which she stared at for a beat before her eyes flicked around them. It wasn’t a particularly busy block but there were still other people around. In the end she decided to take it and he held her hand close to his side as they continued to the next cross street to hail a taxi.

Poe didn’t miss the fact that she kept holding his hand for the entire ride to her hotel.

 

O O O

 

They were in familiar territory in her suite, away from prying eyes. It was still early so they attempted to watch a movie again, curled up on her couch together. But as the film progressed and shoes and a piece of clothing or two collected on the floor, neither of them were watching it when there was a pounding on the door.

“Bollocks!” Rey gasped as she pulled her hand out of Poe’s pants and extricated herself from under him.

He winced as he adjusted himself, not expecting the sudden movement. “What is it?”

“It’s Luke!” she hissed, zipping up the side of her dress that he’d thought himself so clever to have found. “You have to hide.”

Poe chuckled before he realized she was serious. “You’re kidding me. We’re both dressed, what’s he gonna say?”

She made an aggrieved face at his tented pants and pointed to the bedroom. “Get your stuff and go in there, quickly!”

Poe was frowning as he grabbed up his few discarded belongings while she checked a mirror and wiped at the lipstick smeared around her mouth and smoothed out her messy hair. There was another loud knock as Poe hurried into the other room and closed the door behind him. He put on his shirt and jacket with one ear next to the door but he could only hear muffled voices. Poe gave up and went for his shoes and socks next, only to find he had two socks and one shoe. _Uh oh._

Maybe they’d knocked it under the couch. Or maybe the coffee table. Either way, he wondered how observant Luke was and trusted in Rey’s ability to cover for herself. Poe sat on the bed in his socked feet, more than a little frustrated at the interruption, and waited. While there was no use trying to make out actual words they were getting louder. He got up to hover near the door again. They were both yelling now.

Poe hoped it was just an argument over her skipping the sponsor event and not about him. He didn’t want Rey to cop any flak from her coach because of a few nights they’d spent together. She deserved to have a life.

He decided eavesdropping wasn’t the best look and was walking back to the bed when the door flew open. Poe gulped at the sight of the tennis legend that was Luke Skywalker glaring at him.

“And you!” he shouted. “Do you have any idea what Rey has sacrificed to be here? Your career may be over but hers isn’t. Keep it in your pants, and leave her the hell alone!”

Poe just blinked as Luke tossed his missing shoe at him and turned on his heel to leave. The door to the suite slammed noisily as he exited. Poe picked up his other shoe and returned to the living room where Rey stood with her arms crossed. He expected her to be angry at Luke’s overbearing behavior but she wiped quickly at her eyes.

“Hey, are you alright? What the fuck did he say to you?” Poe dropped his stuff and crossed the floor to put his arms around her.

Rey stood there stiffly for a few seconds before stepping away from him. “Luke was just being Luke, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not. It’s none of his business what you do in your personal life.”

“I don’t have a personal life, I have a tennis career. And I have an important match tomorrow.”

“Rey—”

“Really, it’s best if you just go. I’m tired and I have to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

She waited while he pulled his shoes on, with no sign of further tears.

“Call me if you need anything or you want to talk,” he said and she nodded. He leaned in to kiss her cheek when holding her or kissing her properly seemed like the last thing she wanted.

As Poe made his way reluctantly to the elevator his anger grew. Luke Skywalker had been a hero of his when he was a kid, now all he wanted to do was punch the old tyrant in the face. He was worried about Rey and the way she’d instantly withdrawn from him. But most of all, if he was being entirely honest with himself, Poe felt afraid that whatever tentative connection he and Rey shared had been broken, and that hit him harder than he was prepared for.

 

O O O

 

He texted her twice in the morning to check on her but there was no response. Poe told himself not to expect one. She had a match that night and Luke was no doubt making her train and rest beforehand. He wouldn’t bother her and interrupt that process.

Poe had to focus on his own training anyway, and spent the afternoon on the court with Finn who still insisted on partnering him as if nothing had changed. Poe had given him plenty of opportunities to stop, including offering to find a new training partner for however long he remained in the competition. But Finn was adamant they maintain their routine which Poe appreciated more than he could say, especially when he wasn’t sure if he could have done it himself if the situation was reversed.

They played a few full games and did the usual drills with BB until Poe was tired, sore and suitably distracted from thinking about Rey.

“Are you going to her match tonight?” Finn asked out of the blue as they went through some cool down drills.

_How did he know what I was thinking about?_

“Who?” Poe asked casually.

“Who. Rey Jakku’s, obviously.”

“Nope, not tonight. I’m too worn out. I’m old, remember.”

“So why’s there a missed call from her on your phone?” Finn asked, motioning to the chair by the side of the court where they’d dumped their gear.

Poe moved to snatch it up faster than he should have, and swore under his breath when he checked and there were no missed calls displayed. He looked back at Finn who was pinning him with a look. He wanted to be annoyed at his friend for tricking him but was too subdued.

“What the hell’s going on?” Finn demanded.

“Nothing,” he replied automatically.

“Bullshit. You’ve been all over the place since the competition began. Is it because of her?”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“I’ve seen you in tournaments before, remember. And I’ve never seen you so distracted off the court. I also haven’t seen you play this well in years, so if this girl has something to do with it we’d better talk about it, don’t you think?”

Poe groaned and sat down in the plastic chair. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Finn took a seat beside him and handed him a Gatorade. “Start at the beginning.”

 

O O O

 

Poe didn’t go to her match that night like he promised himself he wouldn’t. Tickets were sold out anyway (of course he checked) and he didn’t want to call on Rose for her help to get him in. He’d already told Finn about their hookups and that he was far too emotionally invested for his own good. He didn’t want to betray Rey’s confidence and have anyone else working it out because he was too busy mooning over her.

He didn’t go to the match but he hung around the National Tennis Center, opting to watch it on screen in the players’ lounge. He was actually nervous for her when she walked out onto the court though he didn’t know why. Her German opponent was ranked 16th in the world so Rey was the clear favorite, but rankings weren’t always the best indicator of who would win – Poe himself was testament to that.

A small crowd had gathered to watch alongside him, most of them players he knew from touring. They made the usual comments throughout, praising well won points or hissing in empathy at an unforced error. He wanted to tell them all to shut up so he could concentrate on watching Rey but that might be a giveaway too.

She looked serious and focused like she always did when she played. And if their...whatever it was...had impacted her preparation in any way it was impossible to tell. There was no question who was the better player – Rey wiped the court with her opponent: 6–2, 6–0. _Booyah!_

He wasn’t surprised, Poe was proud. He wanted to congratulate her on getting through to the fourth round, and to tell Luke where to stick it.

He didn’t do either of these things, and he didn’t hear from her again either, not for another three whole days.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, we're halfway now. 
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's reading this! If it sparks even a little joy in your day, KonMarie-style, I'll keep folding it up and putting it away as neatly as I can. Your responses have certainly been my joy. Thank you!


	5. Round of 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey advance in the Open, and with each other when they get to spend some time together.

When Poe won his fourth round match and sat in a packed press conference afterwards it began to feel real. It had been hard to get over the stunned feeling that came as soon as he won match point, but now it was starting to sink in.

He was in the quarterfinals of the US Open, only one of eight.

Maz Kanata was beside herself and, having forgiven him for leaving the sponsor event a few days earlier, was lining up even better corporate opportunities. Kes had been on the phone to him already shouting congratulations. Finn and Rose and a few other friends had been courtside to see the whole match, cheering for him. Among the press pool there was a growing buzz of excitement around his fairy tale run.

Then there was the money. With each round his winnings increased and Poe knew he was going to need it. If he ended up coaching, which held little appeal, or some other tennis related activity he would never earn what he stood to make now, let alone if he progressed further in the tournament. That too was starting to feel like an actual possibility.

This match had been his best yet – he felt better, and he certainly played better. Poe’s confidence had been growing steadily and he allowed the tiny voice inside to whisper that _maybe_ he could keep going. _Maybe_ he could do it.

Unfortunately the feeling didn’t last for long. He saw the draw for the quarterfinals – up against another young rising star of the game – and knew he was an outside chance at best. Still, Poe was determined to enjoy every minute of his success while it lasted. Especially when it served as the perfect antidote for missing Rey.

Like he did for the previous match he watched her round of 16 contest with other players at the arena. Finn was there too, nudging him when he reacted a little too loudly after she won the first set, and giving up altogether when Poe jumped to his feet when Rey won the second.

She was in the quarterfinals as well.

Poe didn’t care if things were undefined between them, he was thrilled for her. It was true that as the tournament continued and pressure increased the likelihood they’d have time to see each other was diminishing. Since their last thwarted encounter there had been no suggestions of them meeting up, as much as he wanted to. He didn’t want to pressure her – if it happened it had to be her move.

And so far, Rey hadn’t moved.

He was still hanging out with a group of players that night after Rey’s match when his phone finally rang. Poe stared at it for a few seconds, stony-faced, before he got up and walked away to answer.

“Rey?”

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

Poe breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “You won your match.”

“So did you.”

“I guess we’re doing okay then.”

“I suppose.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Except that wasn’t true, what I just said. I could be better, if I could see you.”

The softness of her voice made him want to tear up. _Good God, what has she done to me?_ He definitely had no chill when he blurted out his next question.

“Where are you?”

“Still at the Tennis Center.”

“Me too.”

“You are?”

Poe checked his watch. “Meet me at the players’ entrance. I can be there in five.”

“Okay.”

His thoughts were a blur as he returned to the lounge area to pick up his gear, and he barely noticed Finn’s questioning look.

“Aren’t you coming out with us?” he asked.

“No, I have to go. I’m meeting someone.” Poe didn’t elaborate and Finn didn’t ask in front of the others, but it was clear he could guess.

“Take care of yourself, man,” he said which sounded a lot more like a serious instruction than a throwaway line.

With the spectators gone, behind the scenes workers were busily going about their business as Poe moved through the grounds. He found Rey standing inside the security gates, her tennis bag with her but she was dressed in less conspicuous clothing than her branded gear. She waved when she saw him.

“Six minutes,” she said as he jogged the last dozen yards.

“You were counting?”

She nodded.

“Why are you still here? Wasn’t your press conference over an hour ago?”

“I don’t know. The thought of going back to that hotel just...” She didn’t finish the thought, and he picked up how on edge she was. “I have two whole days before the quarterfinals. I just needed to get out of there for a bit.”

“I get it.” And he did, the wait for his all-important next match was already feeling interminable.

Rey scuffed the bottom of her shoe against the asphalt. “Also Luke and I had an argument. I said I wanted a break tomorrow and he said champions didn’t take breaks in the middle of a tournament and I said… a few things I shouldn’t have. Then he accused me of being just like Ben before he left him. Unfocused and undisciplined. And that I wanted the glory without the hard work. He also called me a brat.”

Poe let out an angry breath. “That’s bullshit.”

“I think I was more offended about being compared to Ben Solo than the rest of it,” she said with a chuckle.

“Okay, that I understand.”

Rey held his gaze until his smile started to fade as he got lost in her again.

“Can we go somewhere?” she prompted.

“Where?”

“Canada?”

Poe snorted. “You don’t think Luke has the means to hunt you down there?”

“Okay, maybe leaving the country is a bit extreme. I just… I can’t go back to the hotel tonight.”

“Do you want to come to my place? It’s not that far.”

“Do you mind?”

He shook his head instead of replying that of course he didn’t, he’d been desperate to see her again. He settled for picking up her bag. “Let’s go.”

They took a Lyft to his apartment in Williamsburg rather than the USTA car service reserved for players. He lived a few blocks from the waterfront in an old converted building that was nothing to look at from the outside but Rey gaped when he ushered her inside.

“You thought I lived in a shithole, didn’t you?” he asked derisively as she took in the exposed brick and high ceilings of the place.

“No, of course not.” The surprise in her voice as she looked around belied her words.

“Bedroom’s back here,” Poe said, taking a moment to presumptuously drop her bag by the bed. “Bathroom’s there. Make yourself at home.”

They ended up in the living room looking at each other a little awkwardly.

“Do you want something to drink?” he offered.

She shook her head.

“Are you tired?”

Another shake.

“Hungry?”

“No,” she said quietly, then hesitated as if she was unsure if she should continue. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you too.”

“You didn’t call.”

“I didn’t think that’s what you wanted. Not after Luke’s tirade.”

“At some point he’s going to have to let me decide for myself what’s best. And right now, that’s being here. With you.”

A slow smile spread across Poe’s face. “If you’re not thirsty or hungry or tired, what do you want to do?”

Rey walked into the bedroom without a word, and he followed.

 

O O O

 

They didn’t bother undressing fully, their mutual need too urgent for that. They kissed feverishly for a few minutes then Poe barely had a chance to get the condom on before she pulled him on top of her.

It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he imagined them being together again, and he doubted it had done much for her. But after he came and had managed to catch most of his breath Rey still held onto him to the extent that he was worried about crushing her. He got up reluctantly and she straightened her clothing, saying nothing while he went to the bathroom to clean up.

She was still sitting on the bed when he returned. “Could I borrow something to sleep in?”

“Yeah, of course.” He looked through his dresser for his softest t-shirt, one from his brief college days, and handed it to her.

“I didn’t even bring my toothbrush,” she lamented.

“You can use mine.”

Rey seemed strangely touched. “You’d let me use your toothbrush?”

“Well, yeah, if you don’t mind. I’ve practically had my entire face up in your…” He gestured towards her and she looked amused, “…lady parts. Sharing a toothbrush isn’t that big of a deal.”

She took her time in the bathroom, emerging in his worn Ohio State shirt and looking so adorable it hurt. Poe was already in bed and moved over to give her more space if she wanted it, but she lay down on her side with her back to him taking up hardly any room at all.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, feeling like he’d been a bad host.

“Nuh uh.”

He reached over her to turn the light out and settled in behind her. After a moment he put his arm over her waist and snuggled in closer. He could have easily drifted off to sleep when he heard her snort of laughter.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. But a few seconds later she laughed again. “I can’t stop thinking about your face up in my lady parts.”

“Is that what you want? Because you know I’m happy to oblige.”

“This’ll do for now,” she replied, pulling his arm closer still until his whole body was spooning hers.

 

O O O

 

Aside from an early morning run to the bakery the next block over to pick up coffee and breakfast, Poe was more than happy to spend the day in bed. It happened to be Sunday so it seemed all the more fitting that they spent it at rest, in between lazy touches that turned more purposeful as their (more precisely, his) stamina would allow.

Rey was curled up in the sheets when Poe returned with the food, and he watched her for a moment from the doorway. She stretched languidly and provided glimpses of skin that made him want to forget breakfast and have her again. Rey had other ideas when her eyes blinked open in response to the aroma of the coffee and she demanded to be fed.

He didn’t know what she liked to eat for breakfast – it seemed strange they’d never made it that far – so he bought half a dozen kinds of bagels and an assortment of pastries. She managed to try just about all of them.

With full bellies they slept for a few more hours until Rey nudged him awake with her nose at his neck, which was soon replaced by her lips. He was still half asleep as she continued the exploration which traveled down his bare chest and ticklish sides. He was trying not to giggle when his eyes flew open.

“Shit! What time is it?”

She had no answer for him and pouted when he rolled over to look for his phone.

“I forgot my Dad’s birthday,” he said with a groan as he called his number. “Hola papá? Feliz cumpleaños!… Of course I didn’t forget…” He made an awkward face at Rey as she rested her chin on his stomach and watched him. “Yep, training hard all morning.”

Poe suppressed a yelp when she pinched his hip for lying. He listened some more with the occasional word of agreement as Kes kept talking and Rey’s fingertips started tracing patterns on his skin. He had to hold her hand still when it started inching lower and she had a playful look in her eye.

“Yep… Yep… Sí papá. I said I would! Okay… Okay. See you then.”

He let the phone drop onto the bed with a sigh, then turned to look at her.

“Want to go to Jamaica with me?”

Her head popped up.

“Jamaica, Queens,” he clarified. “I have to go to a birthday party.”

He saw the flash of nervousness on her face followed by disappointment. “I thought you said we could hide out here all day.”

“That’s before I realized I’m a bad son and forgot what day it was. It’s not a party so much as a get together of all of his friends from the old neighborhood. He’s got a bar and a grill out back. There’ll be great food and music and I promise we won’t have to stay long. Then we can come back here and you can have your way with me.”

She thought about it for a moment. “I’ll go for the food,” she grumbled darkly.  

Poe pulled her onto his chest and grinned at her. “Thank you.” He kissed the underside of her jaw. “Gracias,” he whispered against the column of her throat.

“I’ll go if you speak Spanish some more, too.”

Poe rolled them over so he could lavish attention on her neck while telling her all the explicit things he would do to her – and she could do to him – when they got back. All in Spanish, of course, and though she barely understood a word she got his meaning when she wrapped her muscular legs around him.

“We really need to get going,” he said reluctantly after he’d kissed her breathless.

“Already?”

“I have to take a shower.” He pulled away and left her on the bed, thoroughly unsatisfied.

“Is it big enough for two at least?” she called after him.

It really wasn’t but they gave it the old college try anyway.

 

O O O

 

The front door of Kes’s bar was locked up but Poe led Rey down a gated narrow path that opened into the festively decorated area at the back of the building. A loud roar went up when he walked a couple of steps ahead of her and the gathered crowd saw him. Kes came forward and hugged him tightly while Poe repeated his birthday greeting.

“Kes, this is my friend, Rey,” he said. “This is my Dad.”

“Pleased to meet you. Happy birthday, Mr. Dameron,” she said with a tight smile and he saw her eyes dart around the three dozen or so strangers behind them.

Kes glanced from Rey to Poe and back to Rey again before he held out his hand. “Welcome, Rey. Call me Kes. Come, we’ll get you a drink and you can meet people.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and led her to a table of various jugs of alcoholic concoctions he made every year on his birthday. He looked over his shoulder at Poe, incredulously mouthed her full name and looked shocked that he’d turned up with someone like her, then gave him a wink.

Poe took turns hugging the assembled guests, most of whom he’d known his whole life and who treated him like their own son or grandchild. Everyone wanted to talk about how well he was playing and some wanted to demonstrate the sort of backhand or serving style he should try. By the time he extricated himself from the various conversations and found Rey she was bailed up between two of his honorary uncles, a glass of punch in hand, as they debated the merits of line-calling technology versus an umpire’s ruling.

“I probably should’ve warned you about how much this crowd loves their tennis,” he said ruefully as he got her away from the conversation that was rapidly turning into a heated argument. “But don’t worry, no one will say anything about you being here. Kes will see to that.”

“Well, if they like tennis at least that’s a topic I can talk about,” she replied with a grin and held up her glass. “And this? This is amazing.”

“Oh God, that’s your first one, right? Do _not_ let my Dad keep refilling it.”

The loud conversations didn’t let up as dozens of platters and dishes appeared from inside. Everyone started loading up their plates and found a chair, bench or upturned crate to sit on. Rey’s was almost overflowing as others suggested different things she might like. He tried to keep them all from bothering her too much but Rey was never one to discourage eating.

“Poe, I made pepián just for you!” one of the older ladies said.

He kissed her cheek. “Gracias tía.”

“Your girlfriend is very pretty,” she replied in Spanish, with a sly grin. “When are you getting married?”

Poe stifled a groan and ushered Rey over to a spare couple of seats.

“What did she say?” she murmured.

“She likes the fact you have a good appetite.”

“Are you kidding? This is delicious,” Rey said around a mouthful.

After they’d eaten and she insisted on helping, Rey and Poe carried armfuls of dishes into Kes’s small kitchen and did the washing up. He kept waiting for her to ask when they were leaving but to his surprise she was enjoying herself. She asked more about the bar and their friends and Poe told her story after story about the lot of them that kept her laughing.

Work done, they were returning outside when she spotted the framed black and white photo on the wall.

“Is that your mother?” she asked.

Poe nodded and looked at it too. He’d passed by it countless times but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at the picture properly. He’d gotten his dark curls from her, not Kes, though his hair was cut short at the moment for them to be a reminder. He supposed he got his eyes from her as well. She was the same age as him in that photograph yet he felt so much older.

“She was beautiful,” Rey said.

“Yeah, she was.” Poe realized Rey was looking at him rather than the picture and he gave her a small smile.

She slipped her hand into his and leaned into him. He kissed her temple, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“I wish she’d gotten to meet you,” he murmured. Poe didn’t add that he’d never said that to anyone he’d ever been with, even relationships that had lasted years. It was a sobering thought that he wasn’t sure he was quite ready for.

After a minute he turned to head back outside and they stopped when he saw Kes was standing in the doorway.

“I wanted to show you something, mijo,” he said quietly. “You too, Rey.”

He ushered them both upstairs to his apartment above the bar. The living room was small and neat with a cluster of frames on a credenza, most of them Poe at different ages in tennis gear holding ribbons or trophies.

Kes told them to sit on the couch while he disappeared into another room. He returned within moments with a small box and retrieved a handful of photos from it.

“I was clearing out some boxes from the old house and found these.”

They looked through the grainy colored shots of Poe at three or four with a too-large racket. In another his mother was showing him how to hold it properly, and there was one of him in her arms. He’d never seen them before.

“Look how adorable you were,” Rey said teasingly.

“What do you mean ‘were’?” Poe muttered and she grinned.

“And here, remember this?” Kes handed him a red and dark blue silk scarf covered in little white tennis rackets. “Your mother loved that scarf.”

“Yeah,” Poe breathed, his mind flooding with memories. “She wore it everywhere that one summer.”

“I thought Rey might like it.”

She looked up in surprise. “Me?”

Poe frowned in annoyance. His father was not exactly subtle. “Rey doesn’t want an old scarf, Kes. Leave her alone.”

“Nonsense, she plays tennis like your mother, she should have it.”

“She’s Wimbledon champion!” Poe corrected him hotly. “Ma was an amateur.”

“They’re both still tennis players,” argued Kes.

“Really, Kes, I couldn’t,” Rey stammered. “This was your wife’s.”

Kes snatched it back from Poe and placed it into her hands. “Make an old man happy on his birthday. I want you to have it.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

“Now, it’s time we got back to my party.” Kes offered her his arm and, ignoring Poe, took Rey downstairs.

By the time they returned to the festivities half a dozen guitars and other instruments had appeared and the music began. Poe was quiet as they found their seats and Rey tied the scarf around her neck. She tapped her foot along to the music, unable to understand the words when the singing started, and applauded enthusiastically at the end of each song. Her good humor brought him slowly out of whatever funk he’d found himself in.

Everyone took turns singing either alone or with others until it was time for Kes. He made a show of declining which only resulted in increasingly raucous shouts of insistence, until he stood up and hushed them.

“It’s my birthday and I get to choose who I sing with. And I choose my pride and joy, my only son, Poe.”

“Oh God,” he groaned, shrinking back behind Rey before she traitorously pulled him forward.

“It’s your father’s birthday, you have to,” she ordered.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re very bossy?”

“Yes,” she said seriously, “all the bloody time. Now get up there.”

Poe got to his feet which elicited a round of cheers and someone passed him a guitar.

“Let’s sing Ave Que Emigra, I know you know that one,” Kes said as he started strumming a guitar of his own.

“Only because it’s your birthday,” replied Poe peevishly before he counted them in and they started the song.

Kes carried the tune but Poe joined in on the chorus, his eyes meeting Rey’s when he sang and she gave him an impressed look. They ended with a flourish, or at least Kes did, that brought the biggest applause so far, during which Poe quickly relinquished the guitar to the next person, grabbed a drink, and sat back down next to Rey with a huff. She stared at him questioningly.

“You never told me you could do that.”

“You never asked,” he retorted and downed the rest of his glass in one go. “I can do more than just play tennis.”

“I know that,” she murmured suggestively, then turned her attention back to the musicians in the group, leaving him smiling to himself.

As dusk fell the music grew less energetic and more melancholic. A few of the older guests dozed in their seats. Poe sat with Rey slumped into his side, holding onto his arm that was draped around her. She hummed along to a tune she knew but couldn’t join in the Spanish lyrics. He knew they should go soon. He’d never meant for them to stay so long, not when the reality of the US Open would come crashing down the following day when they’d both have to resume training.

He looked over at this father to indicate they would be leaving. He wasn’t sure how long Kes had been watching them but Poe noticed his father’s knowing gaze. They shared a small smile that went unnoticed by Rey.

She protested when he murmured in his ear that it was time to go, but she knew as well as he did that they needed to. They bid the others goodbye and both received hugs and kisses and wishes of good luck from the remaining guests. Kes insisted on walking them out.

“The car will be here in a few minutes. Go back to your friends,” Poe said.

“Alright, alright,” Kes replied. “I know when I’m not wanted. Rey, it was my very great pleasure to meet you.”

“Mine too. I had a wonderful time. And thank you again for this,” she said, touching the scarf that was still around her neck. She kissed his cheek.

Kes beamed and turned to give Poe a bear hug. “My boy. I like this one,” he said, thankfully in Spanish.

“Yeah me too, pa.”

Kes let him go and tapped him affectionately on the chest. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He waved them goodbye and went back to his party.

“Don’t fuck what up?” Rey asked.

“The quarterfinals.”

“Oh.” She stepped in and wrapped her arms around him.

Poe hugged her close, breathing her in. She moved slightly so her lips reached his. After a moment he deepened the kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since we got here,” he confessed, and did it again for good measure.

 

O O O

 

When they got back to his apartment and readied themselves for bed, Poe caught Rey folding the old scarf carefully and laying it in her bag.

He grimaced. “I’m sorry about that. Kes is getting sentimental in his old age.”

“Why are you sorry?” she asked with a frown.

“If you were embarrassed by it. It’s not exactly your style.”

“I love it,” she said quietly and looked hurt when he chuckled in response. Rey got into bed and curled on her side, pulling the sheet over her shoulder.

Poe climbed in to face her but she didn’t snuggle up to him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he said, burrowing further down so he was in her eye line.

“What your father did was sweet. You don’t need to be an arsehole about it.”

“Was I?” He was genuinely perplexed by her reaction.

“You should be grateful he kept all those photos of you and your mother. All those framed pictures he has of you. He’s proud of you.”

Poe knew he could be an ungrateful shit but there was clearly something else causing her to tear up. He thumbed away the wetness from the corner of her eye and let her speak in her own time.

“I don’t have anything of my parents,” Rey said after a while. “I don’t even know my father’s name. My mother abandoned me when I was five and I grew up in foster care.”

“I didn’t know that,” he murmured.

“Nobody does. Nobody in my life now anyway, except Luke. He saw me in a school competition when I was 13 and offered to coach me for free. It was just after Ben left him and he moved to England to get away. He’s looked out for me ever since. He’s the closest thing I have to family in the whole world. Just him.”

Poe realized she was more affected by her argument with Luke that she’d let on, or he’d bothered to notice. He felt terrible, especially after forcing her to be around his loud, unconventional family all day, but she took hold of his hand and tucked it with hers under her chin.

“So I love the scarf, okay?” she whispered.

He said nothing but pressed his lips to her forehead until Rey nestled against his chest. They held each other until they fell asleep. And while they didn’t have sex that night, Poe felt it was the most intimate time they’d spent together.

 


	6. Quarterfinals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything goes according to plan all of the time. Fairy tales don’t always come true. In fact they rarely do, as Poe discovers.

Movement on the bed woke him and Poe opened his eyes to find Rey sitting next to him fully dressed.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled. He peered over at the bedside clock and saw it was still early.

“I called Luke. He’s coming to pick me up,” she said softly.

He frowned. “You called him?”

“He apologized. So did I. And we both agreed it’s time for me to get back to work.”

“I don’t want you to go,” he growled sleepily, wrapping his arm around her waist. It wasn’t for show, he felt a sudden wave of sadness wash through him at the thought of her leaving.

“I know, but I have to. We both have important matches tomorrow.”

Poe scrunched his face up to avoid all of it and she smoothed his features with one hand, her fingers running over the lines on his forehead a few more times in a gentle caress. She leaned down to press a long kiss onto his cheek. Rey stared at him for a moment longer before kissing two of her fingers and touching them to his lips.

She was gone before he thought to arrange to see her next, or promise to call before her match. Or say any of what he really wanted to tell to her. Like how he’d fallen for her harder and faster than he ever had before, and that he knew it was too soon but he wanted them to have a future together even though he had no idea how that would work.

He doubted she’d want to hear any of it, not yet. _And let’s face it, idiot, maybe never._ She was in a fundamentally different place in her career and stage of life from him. She was shaping up to be one of the greats of the game and that would be her sole focus for years to come. Poe was a realist and he knew being with her was a fantasy, but it didn’t stop him from hoping.

There was no chance going back to sleep so he got up to take a shower, try to get his head clear, and concentrate on the fact he was heading into one of the biggest matches of his career. _And maybe the last._

He’d have to think about Rey later.

 

O O O

 

Finn kept him occupied on the practice courts for most of the day, followed by extensive physiotherapy on his knee and shoulder ahead of his match. Poe kept his mind on the game ahead and the opponent he’d be facing, but he knew it would help if he could talk to Rey too. Talking to Rey invariably led to other things that neither of them had time for right then, but Poe would’ve been content just to hear her telling him he could do this. He could win.

Ahead of their respective quarterfinals he texted her with an innocuous “see you on the other side” message and wished her luck, and tried not read too much into the blowing kiss emoji he got in return.

It had been five years since Poe had made it so far in a grand slam. He was determined to carry the momentum from his previous matches into this one and not allow himself to think about the stakes. Or what the hell he was supposed to do with the rest of his life if he lost.

The plan was the same – take it back to basics. Concentrate on every individual serve, every individual hit. Conserve his energy. Get a read on his opponent early. Give it everything he had.

It all sounded good in theory but Poe’s legs wouldn’t stop their nervous tapping after he walked out onto the court for his match and sat down to get ready. It wasn’t just any court, it was Arthur Ashe Stadium – center court where every legend of the game had played.

He concentrated on his breathing and tried to ignore the cheers as he made his way out to serve in the first game. He was in front of a home crowd so the support was to be expected, but he really felt like they were on his side as he faced off against the lanky Swede at the other end of the court.

_Everyone loves an underdog. So let’s give the people a show._

He started with a fault.

_Okay. Let’s try that again._

Poe stuck to his one ball at a time mantra. He remained focused on every point, and the placement of every shot.

They were even after the first two sets, neither giving an inch. Now was the time to strike.

When he won the third set he felt the change. The spectators were completely with him, their excitement increasing. The Swede was sweating harder under the lights. Poe wasn’t even bothered by his knee so much, and his shoulder felt strong in every service game.

_Holy shit. I’m going to win this. I’m going to the semifinals._

He knew it from that very moment. And after he broke his opponent’s serve in the fourth set it grew closer.

When it finally happened and match point was his, the crowd erupted. Poe felt himself laughing even though he couldn’t hear it. He took a moment to look around and take it in.

Just like that, against all odds and his own worn out body, Poe was a semifinalist.

 

O O O

 

He was practically mobbed when he came off the court. It didn’t let up as he showered and changed, trying not to limp when his knee decided to exact revenge for holding up so well during play. He had to settle for a brace until he could get it iced properly. On his way to the post-match conference he managed to call Kes who was practically in hysterics along with their friends who’d watched from the bar.

Once all the press duties were done, taking longer than they ever had as pretty much everyone had been surprised by his win, Maz forced him into an impromptu sponsor meeting. Poe found himself talking to representatives from a prominent multinational that had never shown any interest in him before. So he played their game and tried to be charming but as the natural endorphins wore off and his knee really did start to throb, Poe was ready to call it a night. Or spend an hour being tortured by the physiotherapist, at least.

He spied Finn waiting for him and wrapped up the sponsorship conversation as soon as he could, leaving Maz to do her thing. Nothing had to be decided yet, and he didn’t have the headspace anyway – all of it was too fresh and, frankly, still unbelievable to him.

“Hey, buddy,” Poe said and have him a hug.

Finn held on tightly for a few seconds. “You killed it, man. Proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know that.” They joked a lot and gave each other shit but Finn really was his closest friend, as well as a dedicated training partner.

“Yeah, I know.” Finn stepped back and peered over his shoulder at the executives who were still talking to Maz. “Wait, are they from…”

“Yep,” Poe said with a tense grin.

“Ho ho, my boy’s gonna get paid! Don’t forget your friends now.”

“It’s early days yet. Let’s see if I survive the semis.”

Finn’s expression changed. “Aw, listen, speaking of… Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“She lost. Rey lost her match.”

Poe frowned in stunned confusion. “What? No she didn’t.”

_There’s no way. She was the clear favorite. Fuck._

“Yeah, she’s out. It was brutal by all accounts. That girl’s got a temper.”

_Fuck!_

Poe went straight for his phone but there was nothing from her. He tried her number but there was no answer. Any remaining exhilaration he was feeling from his own performance was gone, and he just felt sick.

“I’m just saying,” Finn went on, “maybe watch yourself with her and don’t piss her off.”

“I gotta go,” he said, not interested in hearing anymore.

 

O O O

 

Poe kept checking his phone as he sat in traffic trying to get to her hotel. He’d already left messages and sent her texts but she wasn’t responding. All he managed to find out was that she wasn’t at the National Tennis Center so he had to assume she was at the hotel. Maybe with Luke, but he didn’t care if her coach turned him away. He had to see her.

He swore under his breath as the cab driver blared his horn for no discernible reason other than to vent his annoyance. The replay was on the tv screen in the back of the taxi again. He’d seen it three times already – Rey in a yelling match with the umpire over a close line call and being cited for a code violation. The crowd booed in the footage and Poe switched the sound off. He looked away as the news story focused on his win instead.

When he made it to the hotel there were a bunch of cameras and reporters outside. He wasn’t sure if they were waiting for Rey to turn up or if they were camped out until she left her room again. Either way he avoided them by shoving a cap down low on his head and slipping through the lobby unnoticed, thankful for once for his average height.

He tried calling her again as he rode the elevator to her floor, and when there was no answer by the time he stood in front of her door he knocked instead.

Poe waited before trying again a little louder, and when there was no response he let himself into the suite with her spare card. The living room was empty but he saw movement through the open door of the bedroom.

“Rey?”

She didn’t answer so he took off his cap and went to the door. No sign of Luke, thankfully. What he did see were half-packed suitcases on the bed and other gear piled next to them. A harried Rey emerged from the bathroom zipping up a smaller bag.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped.

“I wanted to check… I’ve been trying to call you,” he said weakly. _What the hell am I supposed to say?_

“I don’t have time for this. I’m leaving. I’m going home.” She threw the case into one of the bags and began shoving other clothes in too.

Poe didn’t allow himself to think about that painful and sudden outcome. “I heard what happened.”

He didn’t mention that he’d seen it as well, and she had not come off well. The backlash over her poor sportsmanship was already all over the media.

“You and everyone else. Did you see the reporters downstairs?”

He didn’t respond to the question as he tried to find the right comforting words. “This really sucks. I’m so sorry.”

“You should be,” she muttered to herself.

“What?”

Rey kept packing. “Luke was right. I allowed myself to get distracted and I didn’t focus. So I guess I got what I deserved.”

“You didn’t deserve this…”

“No? Luke warned me, and I didn’t listen. I just threw it all away. And for what?” She glared at him, the accusation silent but completely obvious. She went back to the bathroom for more.

Poe was stunned, unsure how to respond. He knew their timing hadn’t been ideal but it wasn’t as if they’d spent every moment of the tournament together. He didn’t monopolize her time. And it went without saying, though he was increasingly tempted to mention it, that she had been the one to proposition him in the first place.

“Listen,” he tried again patiently. “I know it’s a blow, but it was just one match…”

Her temper immediately flared. “It was the quarterfinals of the US Open! No one, _no one_ thought I wouldn’t make it all the way this year after Wimbledon.”

“Okay, but it’s not like your career is over. It’s just a setback.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re in the semis. Oh, congratulations, by the way,” she added sarcastically.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose?” He took a step towards her but thought better of getting too close.

“Oh no,” Rey scoffed. “I know _you_ know what it’s like to lose. Because that’s what _you_ do. But I don’t! Not like that.” Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to fit a pair of shoes in an already full suitcase, and she threw them on the floor in frustration. “Some bullshit code violation because he can’t see where the line is? This tournament is a joke. I’ve never been so humiliated!”

Poe had had enough. “It wasn’t bullshit. This…” he said, gesturing to her and the mess on the bed, “ _this_ is what’s bullshit. And you haven’t been humiliated. You thought you got a bad call and you made a stink – everyone has done that at some point. But you’re behaving like a brat now. Luke was right about that.”

She blinked at him. “Did you just call me a brat?!”

“Yes, because that’s how you’re behaving. No one likes losing, but you’re a professional and you need to act like it.”

“Get out! Get out of my room!” she shouted, advancing on him.

“Why, so you can have another tantrum?” he retorted just as loudly. “So you can throw your shit around and blame everyone else for your own failing?”

“ _My_ failing? All of this is because I was with you when I should have been training!”

Poe’s face was hot as he tried unsuccessfully to contain his anger. “Did you or did you not ask to go anywhere rather than back to your hotel that night? You called me, remember.”

“I didn’t ask to go to some party the next day and stay out half the night. Or be kept awake the rest of it by you snoring.”

He shook his head at her petulance. “You’re being completely ridiculous. You know this, right?

“I told you to get out,” she gulped, sudden tears forming in her eyes.

Poe took a breath to calm down and lowered his voice. “I didn’t come over here to fight with you, Rey. I came here to make sure you were okay... Because I care about you.”

Her wounded stare was unwavering. “You shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. And I _don’t_ care about you.”

He pressed his lips together, not trusting his voice if he had to respond to that gut-punch. Rey’s mouth tightened too but she didn’t cry and continued to hold his gaze until he was the one to drop his eyes.

“Okay. I’m gonna go,” he said evenly. He walked into the living room and placed her room card on the table, then went to the suite door. “It was nice knowing you. Safe trip.”

Poe let the door click shut behind him, careful to make sure it didn’t slam. He put the cap back on and headed for the elevator.

He didn’t remember getting home. When he plugged his phone in to charge he saw two missed calls from Maz and one from his Dad, and a text from Finn checking in. He ignored all of them and went to bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.


	7. Semifinals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe receives some timely advice.

Poe wanted to call her the next day. He wanted to apologize and hoped that she had calmed down enough to do the same. Emotions had been high and he knew he could have handled it better. The last thing he meant to do was fight with her but he hadn’t anticipated how upset she would be over losing, or how clearly unused to it she was.

He also wasn’t prepared for how brutally she rebuked him, or how the rejection had devastated him so completely. Poe knew he was in deep, and that his feelings for Rey were nowhere near what hers were for him… but not to that extent. He replayed their interactions in his mind and knew he wasn’t crazy – every indication was that she felt it too. But then she’d walked away as if it were nothing, as if _he_ meant nothing, and Poe wondered if he’d misread everything from the beginning.

_Was it really just sex? Was she so young or self-centered or screwed up that she couldn’t tell the difference? Am I a complete fucking idiot to even think I had a chance with her?_

It didn’t matter in the end – Rey was gone, and he doubted he’d ever see her again once she was back on tour and he did… whatever came next.

So he didn’t call her. He didn’t text. And as he headed into his full day of preparation ahead of the semifinals, Poe felt wretched.

 

O O O

 

Finn was waiting for him at the players’ entrance of the National Tennis Centre along with a bunch of kids there for the junior clinics that ran every day during the tournament. Poe thanked his driver and got his gear from the trunk, already suspicious.

“Told you he’d be here,” Finn said to them as Poe approached warily and the kids started asking him to sign their oversized tennis balls.

“Did you organize this?” Poe asked him over their heads, his teeth gritted in a smile.

Finn just laughed. “I swear, man, they asked who I was waiting for and when I told them they stuck around for your autograph. You’re hot right now, get used to it.”

Poe wasn’t sure he believed the story but he signed each souvenir and asked them about their tennis clinic. He’d signed plenty of autographs in his day but rarely had they been received so excitedly, or maybe he’d never truly appreciated his fans. They asked enthusiastic questions about his last match and wished him luck for the semis.

It should have been a confidence booster but Poe still felt lost once the kids were gone and he told Finn what had happened with Rey. He wasn’t surprised by his friend’s reaction which was one-sided in support of him, and Finn immediately told him to forget about her. But Poe didn’t blame her completely, and he certainly couldn’t just forget her.

“I’m serious, Poe,” said Finn as they walked to the practice courts. “Do not let her ruin your comeback.”

“This isn’t a comeback. It’s a last attempt to salvage the scraps of my career before I give it up,” Poe replied dully. “You know what’s going to happen tomorrow. It’ll all be over.”

Finn stopped walking abruptly so Poe did too. “Stop. That’s it, I cannot listen to you say shit like that anymore.”

“What?” he said defensively.

“You have an opportunity here, a real chance, to go all the way in the US Open. You have to get out of your head and stop telling yourself you can’t do it. Plenty of us would give anything to be in the position you’re in. _You’re_ the one with the shot. And if you piss it away, man, I swear… I will never forgive you.”

Poe swallowed hard, trying not to feel attacked again. But apparently Finn wasn’t done.

“I know you like this girl, but you barely know her. And allowing her to derail your game like this? That’s some real bullshit right there.”

“It’s not her. She isn’t responsible for my shit,” Poe argued. “I have been sliding into irrelevance for years so let’s not pretend it’s anything more than facing reality. And you don’t even know her at all. So lay off Rey, alright?”

“Fine. I’ll lay off when you get it together,” Finn countered, poking his chest for good measure. “Stop assuming you’re gonna lose. Stop writing yourself off and look at what you’ve done up to this point. Okay, so maybe no one thought you’d get this far. Well, fuck ‘em. You’re here, and you’re only one match away from contesting the title. So let’s get to work.”

They resumed their journey to the courts in silence.

“You’re quite the motivational speaker,” Poe said mockingly after a minute.

“Shut up.”

“Really. When you give up playing I think you have a real career ahead of you.”

Finn snorted. “Get out there and show me what you got, old man.”

Poe took out his mood and frustrations on the court, doing his best to block out the crowd that had gathered to watch. He soon regretted skipping his PT session after the quarterfinal match as first his knee then his shoulder began to ache. He barely made it through an hour before begging off and booking in with the physiotherapist.

Plenty of the players feared the lead physio, and Poe was no exception. Phasma tutted disapprovingly when she examined him, while he gritted his teeth in pain with every movement and manipulation of his knee. She towered over him physically (and just about everyone else too), and when he was on the table it felt like she could snap his leg like a twig if she wanted to.

After the session she insisted he rest up which seemed like an opportunity to get away from the stadium altogether and try and forget about tennis for a while. When he suggested hanging out with Finn, however, he found himself rebuffed again.

“No can do, pal. I got a date,” Finn said as they packed up their gear in the locker room.

“Oh yeah? Who with?”

“Ms. Rose Tico.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really. You abandoned us together enough we figured we’d try going out without you at all.”

Poe frowned as he shoved his racket in his bag. “I mean, it’s only the night before one of the most important matches of my whole career,” he griped. “But you two go have fun.”

“Will do, thanks buddy,” said Finn with a slap on his good shoulder as he headed out.

 

O O O

 

The thought of going home to an empty apartment held no appeal, but hanging around Flushing Meadows was definitely not an option either. Poe had already been caught by a reporter and gave an inarticulate interview about his chances in the semis. _Definitely time to leave._

He ended up in Queens at Kes’s place, and managed to cause a stir with the regulars when he helped out behind the bar for a while until he had to get off his leg. He settled on Kes’s couch upstairs to take it easy as ordered, but when he switched on the TV and saw the Women’s Singles semifinal underway all he could think about was that Rey should have been playing. And she probably would have been if they hadn’t gotten involved.

He switched it off before regret overwhelmed him and saw the stack of photos that Kes had found still on the coffee table. Poe looked through them again, lingering on the one of his mother holding him. Not for the first time he wondered what she would make of him now, if she’d lived to see him grow up. He knew she’d be proud of his playing, no matter what. He wasn’t so sure she’d feel the same about his personal life which was ultimately pretty empty. Especially now.

Poe pulled himself up on the couch when Kes arrived and masked the emotion on his features.

“I brought you soup,” he said, giving him the tray. “How’s the knee?”

“It’s fine, I just need to rest it.”

Kes took a seat in his armchair. “So, what’s going on?”

“The usual. It’s never been the same since the operation.”

“I don’t mean your knee.”

Poe shrugged. “Oh you know, just shitting myself over the match tomorrow. No big deal.”

“Uh huh. Well, it’s the semifinals, that’s to be expected.” Kes watched him as he ate a few spoonfuls. “Now tell me the real reason you’re here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re hanging around this place in the middle of a grand slam tournament. The day before you play in the semifinals for the first time in how many years? You don’t have anywhere better to be right now?”

“Can’t a dutiful son visit his father?” Kes just gave him a look and Poe sighed. “I needed the company.”

“Where’s Rey?”

He couldn’t eat any more and put the tray aside.“She left for London after she lost her match.”

“When is she coming back?”

“She’s not. I guess she’s going straight back into training for the next tour.” Kes remained quiet and waited for him. Poe let out a breath that was shakier than expected. “I fucked it up, pa.”

“What happened?”

Poe didn’t recount the whole sorry argument but gave him the highlights. Kes pursed his lips as he listened.

“And? What happened when you spoke to her after that?” he prompted.

“I haven’t spoken to her. She left.”

“Idiota,” Kes muttered under his breath before addressing him properly. “The phones don’t work in England?”

“She doesn’t want to hear from me, Kes,” Poe said tiredly.

“Eh? How do you know that if you don’t try?”

“She made it pretty clear that night.”

“Pfft.” Kes gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “If I had given up every time your mother and I argued you wouldn’t be here.”

“This is completely different.”

“How? You know your mother had a temper. She would lash out. But I knew it was just her way. I learned to give her time and space when she needed it, and she would always come round. I also learned that sometimes she was angry because she was afraid.”

“So I have to be the one to reach out?” Poe grumbled. “Even if Rey was wrong?”

“Yes. Because wrong is subjective. You don’t know what she was going through, what it’s like to be her.”

“Maybe not, but I have a pretty good idea. I’ve been playing my whole life.”

Kes’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know as much as you think you do. Not when it comes to women.”

“Please, you’ve been with how many women?”

“It’s not the quantity, it’s the quality. You should know that. And I loved your mother every moment we were together. Through the good and the bad. Even when I thought she was wrong. Because she was worth it.”

“I know, pa,” Poe said quietly. His father still wore his wedding ring, and though he’d attempted dating in the 25 years since her death, no one had ever measured up. Poe was beginning to understand why he felt that way.

“So now, my boy, you need to decide if Rey is worth it. Or are you just going to sit here and do nothing.” Kes pulled himself up from his chair with a grunt. “Maybe think about that for a while. I have to get back to work.”

Kes ruffled his hair like he was a kid but Poe barely noticed, deep in thought.

 

O O O

 

The next day the temperature rose and it promised to be the hottest one of the tournament. Poe had slept poorly and was feeling it when he made his way out to center court.

He’d thought about it all night and decided that the semifinal match would determine more than his fate in the Open. If he lost there was nothing stopping him from going to London, if Rey would even speak to him. If she wouldn’t then… Poe didn’t want to think about the alternative.

And if he won… that was another outcome that he wasn’t ready to contemplate.

His opponent was a 25-year-old Belgian who had fought a hard campaign, already winning three gruelling five-set matches to make it to the semis. Poe knew he didn’t have that kind of stamina anymore, especially in this heat, and hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

So he was surprised to find himself up two sets to love as they headed into the third. His playing hadn’t been particularly pretty, but he ground out two tiebreakers and took the sets 7–6, 7–6.

Poe cooled himself during the changeover and didn’t notice the Belgian was off the court until time was called and he didn’t reappear. The crowd started a slow clap while an official came out to speak with the chair umpire.

“What’s going on?” Poe demanded. They were well past the break period and his muscles threatened to start cramping.

“Filhon has forfeited,” he told him before making the formal announcement of the retirement. There were boos as well as applause from the crowd until cheers overtook them on the next statement.

“Match – Dameron!”

Poe raised a hand to the crowd but the abrupt conclusion of the match had taken him by surprise. That was replaced by a sickening thud when he realized what it meant.

He wouldn’t be going to London. He was in the final. He would be playing for the championship.

 

O O O

 

It was late when he returned home, grateful to be done with the craziness of the post-match press conference and interviews. His opponent retiring hurt had put something of a dampener on his finals place, with speculation that if Filhon hadn’t been heat affected the outcome would’ve been different. Poe made a few vague comments and left them to make whatever conclusions they wished. It wouldn’t change the fact he was through.

He didn’t wait around to watch Ben Solo’s semifinal match to find out if it would be him or the South African eighth-seed he’d be facing in under two days. That was a problem he’d deal with tomorrow.

He sat in the quiet of the car on the journey home, enjoying the silence even if it meant he wasn’t able to avoid his own thoughts. Aside from calling Kes and celebrating his victory with Finn after the match, the only other person Poe wanted to talk to was Rey. He’d shared almost every victory of the tournament with her (choosing to skip over the post-quarterfinal catastrophe), and it seemed wrong not to do so now.

He hadn’t expected to find himself in this position and he needed her support. If he couldn’t drop everything to go to London just yet, he’d have to settle for a phone call. So when the driver dropped him off and he walked the last few yards to his apartment, Poe finally got himself together to call her.

As he listened to the ringing through his phone he heard a different sound; a ringtone. Poe looked up at the steps of his building and saw Rey sitting there staring at her phone screen. Her eyes met his as he let his hand fall from his ear and he disconnected the call.

“Hi,” she said quietly, and he didn’t miss her nervousness as she got to her feet.

“Hi.”

Rey held up her phone. “You called.”

“You’re here,” Poe replied, still in disbelief, and hoping he didn’t have heatstroke too and it wasn’t real.

“I, um, wanted to say congratulations. You’re in the final. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks. Is that the only reason you’re here?” He tried not to sound disappointed and it came out harsher than intended. “I thought you were going home.”

She shook her head. “I just left the hotel. Luke and I have been staying with his sister. Hiding out, to be more precise. At least I have.”

“Nice to have friends in high places.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said and glanced at her feet. “I don’t really have any friends and I’ve been thinking about why. I used to be better at it, but then I started winning and it was all I thought I needed. Everything else was just a distraction. And when I lost that match I realized… I don’t have much at all. I pushed everything away because I thought it would make me better. But it hasn’t.”

She took a couple of steps down closer to him. Poe didn’t move.

“You were right,” she went on. “I was being a brat. And I need to work on that. I _am_ going to work on that. I have a lot to make up for after how I behaved.”

Poe shrugged slightly. “Everyone will forget all about it in a few days. They always do. They’ll forgive you.”

“Will you?” Her eyes were wide and they filled with tears as she stared at him. Poe felt guilty and relieved and protective all at once.

“Rey, you don’t need my forgiveness…”

“I lied to you,” she insisted with increasing urgency. “I got scared and I pushed you away because that’s all I know. But it wasn’t true what I said. I do care about you. I do want you. And I need you, Poe.”

Everything else he was feeling was replaced with elation but he was so stunned he forgot to react. She clenched her hands anxiously when he said nothing.

“I’m not good at needing anyone... I haven’t had a lot of practice. I know that’s no excuse and it doesn’t make up for all the things I said. I was awful and I’m so sorry, and I don’t know how to fix it…”

Poe stepped up and wrapped his arms around her waist just as her face crumpled in misery. She gripped his shoulders tightly and trembled against him. Holding her was a little awkward on the stairs but he didn’t care. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck and he breathed deeply.

“Shh. I’m sorry too,” he murmured, which only seemed to make her cry harder as he hugged her. When she quieted he shifted to kiss her, barely a brush of his lips on hers at first, until she responded open-mouthed and needily.

“Sorry,” she said again when they separated, this time due to the wetness from her tears on his cheeks which she wiped away.

“I don’t think that’s all you,” he admitted.

She smiled and held his face with both hands to gaze at him for a moment before kissing him again more thoroughly. Poe quickly refamiliarized himself with the feeling of her body pressed against him, her scent and her taste, and he felt whole again.

“We should, uh, probably go inside, don’t you think?” he said against her warm mouth before they got too carried away. “If you want to stay, that is.”

Rey hesitated and moved back to look into his eyes. “Are you sure? You really want me?”

“Yes, I bloody well do,” he replied, using her turn of phrase. “Have I not been clear enough about that? I want you, Jakku.”

Then he repeated the assertion more vehemently in Spanish, just to watch her reaction. Her tongue flicked over her reddened bottom lip as she battled whatever thoughts had given her pause.  

“Why?” she whispered. Her expression was open and painfully honest.

“Because you’re the most incredible, talented, beautiful, surprising, challenging, frustrating woman who has ever propositioned me at a gala,” Poe said as he gazed up lovingly at her.

Rey rested her hands on his chest, her head cocked. “I don’t know if all those are good things for you.”

“They are, trust me. So yes, I’m sure. Stay. And the rest of it… We can work out all the rest later.”

She smiled shyly. “I didn’t bring anything with me to stay. I don’t even have my toothbrush.”

“I have a shirt you can wear. And you can use my toothbrush. Though we should probably do something about that eventually.”

“Then you better take me upstairs,” she said before kissing him again.

Poe grinned against her mouth then reached up to entwine his fingers with hers and led her up the steps. He paused before he punched in the front door code.

“Remind me,” he said, “what’s your stance on sex before a match?”

“I’m a big fan.”

“Good to know.” Poe held open the door and they walked inside together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there was no way I was going to be able to draw out their reconciliation to the final chapter…


	8. The Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the US Open Men’s Singles Final, when one end becomes another beginning.

* * *

The day before the final, Poe woke later than he usually did and rolled over to find Rey lying there watching him.

“You’re still here,” he murmured.

She smiled slightly. “Am I not supposed to be?”

He moved closer, resting his head against her bare chest as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Yes,” he sighed contentedly and smiled into her warm skin.

“You do need to get up. You’re the one who has a training session this morning, not me,” she reminded him. “I’m on holiday.”

He held her tighter in response, not ready to leave her.

She tapped his shoulder after a while when he didn’t move. “Last night does not count as a workout, mister.”

Poe groaned before letting her go and pushing himself off the bed. When he returned from the bathroom a little more awake, Rey was in his t-shirt and sitting up in bed looking at her phone. She glanced at him quickly.

“What is it?” he asked, already feeling a curl of dread in his gut.

“We didn’t check the results last night. The other semifinal.”

Poe sat down next to her, knowing what was coming that would burst their happy, short-lived bubble. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

She handed him the phone where there was an ESPN story about the final, with a picture of Poe and an aggressive looking Ben Solo at the top. The headline read ‘Can David Really Slay Goliath?’.

“They didn’t even get my name right,” he joked, putting the phone down so he didn’t have to read what a one-sided championship it had turned out to be.

“Your lot are happy, it’s an all American final.”

“Yay, USA!” he cheered sarcastically.

“You should take a look at some of these articles—”

“No thank you.”

“I think you’d be surprised at the support—” Rey tried to give him the phone again but he stopped her.

“I cannot read some bullshit analysis of my game versus the number two player in the world.”

Rey looked annoyed. “I’m fourth-seed and where did that get me? Stop focusing on the number and believe in yourself. You can beat him.”

“Easy for you to say. I’m the one who has to do it.” Poe flopped back onto the bed and pressed his fingers to his temples.

“I believe in you.”

Poe let out a long breath and dropped his arms. Rey reclined on her side next to him, her head in one hand so she could look into his eyes, while the other hand came to rest on his chest.

“I believe in you,” she repeated more solemnly.

He stared at her for a moment, wishing her faith was all he needed.

“Would you be there tomorrow?” Poe asked hesitantly. “In my seats?” he added, in case there was any doubt.

Rey bit her bottom lip, not masking her uncertainty.

“I know it’s a lot,” he went on. “You’ve kept away from the media. And no one knows about us. But Kes won’t go and I’d just feel better…” He trailed off, knowing it was selfish. “Forget it, I’m being stupid. It’ll be fine.”

Rey looked thoughtfully at the ceiling before dropping her gaze back to him. “Would I have to wave an American flag? I’d hate for people to think I was rooting for Ben.”

She gave him a coy smile that was gone when he surged up to kiss her, rolling her onto her back.

“As you sure?” he checked, pulling back. “You know what it means.”

“The global tennis watching public will guess about us? And we’ll be the subject of wild speculation until we confirm it? Got it.”

“And you’re okay with that? We haven’t even talked about after…”

“I’m okay with it,” she confirmed. “Though I should probably give Luke and my agent a heads up.”

Poe thanked her profusely between kisses that soon grew longer and slower. As his mouth moved to her neck and one of Rey’s legs curled around his, she remonstrated him distractedly.

“Poe… What about your practice session?”

“Finn will wait,” he mumbled.

“You realize we’ll have plenty of time for this after tomorrow, yes?”

He shifted so their eyes met and Poe smiled. “I like the sound of that. Say it again?”

 

O O O

 

The practice courts were surrounded by onlookers when Poe and Finn arrived (late). The media section had expanded as well.

“Don’t tell me Solo’s here at the same time,” muttered Poe, eyeing off the size of the crowd.

“Dude, they’re here to see you,” Finn replied with a grin. “When are you gonna get that?”

Poe took a breath and couldn’t avoid it any longer. “Holy shit. I’m in the final.”

“Yep. Give the folks at home a wave and then let’s get to work.”

The loud cheering started as they made their way onto the court. Poe stopped for a few autographs before they started warming up. After the first half hour when they paused for a break Poe nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice behind him.

“You’re dropping your shoulder.”

Luke Skywalker materialized seemingly out of nowhere, and took a seat next to him on the bench uninvited. Finn was wide-eyed at the sight of the tennis legend, and made a quick excuse to go get more drinks before abandoning Poe. He glared at his traitorous training partner before glancing back at Luke.

“If you’re looking for Rey…” Poe said before trailing off when he thought of her in his apartment, in his bed, looking thoroughly satiated not two hours earlier. _Don’t make me finish that sentence._

“I know where she is,” Luke replied evenly. “She’s the one who told me where I could find you.”

“Huh. If you’re here to kill me you should probably know there’s a bunch of cameras over there.”

Luke gave him a withering look. “I’m not going to kill you. I may not like what’s been happening between the two of you but I hear the situation has improved. And it seems we’re going to have to get along.”

“Yeah, we are,” Poe replied determinedly while his shoulders did drop – this time from relief.

Luke crossed his arms, keeping his gaze locked in front of him. “When I arrived at Rey’s hotel after the quarterfinals she was inconsolable, I thought over the match. Then I found out it was because you had been there. She told me what you said to her.”

_Oh shit._

“You were right, though you could’ve handled it better,” Luke admonished him. “She needed to hear it from someone other than me.”

Poe was about to interject when he continued. “And, yes, maybe I was the one who helped make her that way in the first place,” Luke conceded. 

Poe stayed silent, glad he didn’t have to point that bit out to her coach who was also her only father figure.

“So perhaps you could be good for her, if that’s what she wants.”

“I’d like to try,” Poe said sincerely.

“Good. Fine. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” Luke didn’t get up and they sat there for a while longer until he spoke again. “I watched you practicing just now. You’re dropping your shoulder too early on second serves. Lose too much speed and Ben will punish you for it.”

“Okay.”

“His strength is in his baseline game. You need to break up his groundstrokes and bring him to the net as often as you can.”

Poe frowned in confusion. “Why are you helping me? He’s your nephew.”

“He stopped being my nephew a long time ago,” Luke said, a fleeting but unmissable sadness in his eyes. “He may be again one day but for now he’s the player you have to beat.”

“Well, thank you, I really appreciate the tips.”

“And like you said, there are cameras over there. A bit of psychological warfare before a big match never goes astray.”

Poe could only imagine Ben’s reaction to the footage of Luke giving him pointers on the practice courts the day before the final, and he chuckled quietly.

Luke got to his feet. “Oh, the idea of killing you that you mentioned before? I’ll revisit that if you ever hurt her. I’m obligated to mention it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Poe stood up too and shook Luke’s hand. He swore he heard the overactive shuttering of camera lenses all the way across the courts.

 

O O O

 

He kept things low key that night. Poe had no interest in battling cameras and reporters if he was in public view, so they had a quiet dinner at his apartment with just Kes, Finn, Rose and Rey in attendance. Finn was wary of Rey but was warned to be on his best behavior now that they'd made up, and Rose quickly endeared herself to both Kes and Rey.

They ate early so they could leave Poe to get a good night’s sleep. After Finn and Rose departed Kes gave him a long hug to wish him luck.

“It’s not too late to change your mind and come to the match,” Poe said even as he prepared himself for disappointment.

Kes had the decency to look remorseful at least. “My heart couldn’t take it. I’ll talk to you after.”

Rey returned from the kitchen to stand by Poe’s side.

“But this,” Kes went on as he looked at them together. “This makes my heart very happy.”

Poe knew that his father had seen Rey’s suitcase that was now in the bedroom but he managed to control himself and not give them the third degree or start talking about grandchildren. Instead Kes kissed them both on the cheek to bid them goodnight and refused the offer to accompany him to his car.

Poe let out a long breath once they were alone. His nerves had been growing more ragged all day and he tried to recall how he dealt with similar pressure earlier in his career. _I am really out of practice with this._

“What will help?” Rey asked as she took hold of his hand.

He smiled grimly at her astuteness, and didn’t expect the sudden lump to form in his throat that had him swallowing hard.

“Promise you won’t be disappointed in me if I lose,” he said in a moment of absolute honesty. “I really don’t want to let you all down, but...”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it. Instead Rey covered their joined hands with her other one and rested them against her chest. Her eyes were clear and determined as she stared at him. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I will feel the same way about you as I do right now. I promise.”

Poe couldn’t respond so he just kissed her softly, thanking whatever deity would listen that she was there with him. He couldn’t bear to think about how random their initial meeting had been, or where he’d be now if he’d waited for the elevator instead of opting for the stairs that day. If he’d simply made a different, insignificant decision like that he could have missed out on knowing her at all.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Rey said, her nose brushing against his.

“There is no way I’m going to be able to sleep,” he complained with a sigh.

She gave him a pointed look.

“Oh.”

Her lips quirked. “But I’m not getting the blame for wearing you out the night before the final, so you’d better let me do most of the work.”

“Okay, if you insist,” Poe replied as she led him into the bedroom.

 

O O O

 

Before he left the apartment the next morning, Poe had one last thing he wanted to do. He found the small box at the back of a drawer where it had sat untouched for years. Inside was a silver chain with his mother’s ring on it that he’d worn when he first turned pro. Somewhere along the way he’d taken it off, around the time that the game he loved turned into little more than a job, and one that he didn’t do so well at anymore.

Unlike many professional tennis players Poe wasn’t superstitious. He didn’t believe in not changing anything when he was on a winning streak. He missed his mother, and wished she could be there to see him play in his last match.

He slipped Shara Bey’s ring around his neck before he left for the stadium so he could take a little piece of her with him.

 

O O O

 

When Poe and Ben walked through the tunnel and onto center court that afternoon, Poe cursed whoever decided to schedule the final for late afternoon in the hottest part of New York’s summer. The heat and humidity were intense, as was the noise of the crowd after they were each announced.

They unpacked their gear and readied themselves for play. Poe looked into the stands and quickly found Finn and Maz who were there to support him, but frowned when he didn’t see Rey. He tried to ignore it in case she’d been delayed getting to her seat, and hoped she hadn’t encountered any problems with the press. As the minutes ticked down her absence made him increasingly anxious.

Shortly before the umpire called for the start of play he glanced back and saw her coming down the stadium steps, along with Kes. Poe grinned in surprise as she motioned his dad ahead of her to sit down and then did the same. Kes looked like he was going to throw up but Rey locked eyes with Poe and smiled, nodding reassuringly. Maz’s eyes practically bugged out of her head at her arrival and she quickly reached for her phone.

Thankfully there was another late arrival that drew attention away from the fact that Rey Jakku was sitting in his supporter seats, when the senior senator from New York arrived with her airline magnate husband and were met with applause. Leia Organa and Han Solo took their seats with Ben’s entourage just as the umpire called time.

Ben would be serving first. Poe looked at him at the other end of the court dressed all in black as usual, wishing he was still the 17-year-old kid he’d beaten before. Ben had over a decade of additional experience under his belt since then, but Poe reminded himself that he did too.

He tucked his mother’s ring under his shirt and was ready.

 

O O O

 

They were even after the first two sets, neither able to exert real dominance over the other. The second set had gone to a tiebreaker that Poe eventually won 7–6, but the temperature was draining and he knew that length of set play wasn’t sustainable.

There was a ten-minute heat break after the third set that Ben won, a chance to try and cool down and for Poe to gather what strength he needed to win the fourth set and stay alive in the match, or lose and it was all over. He hoped Ben was suffering just as much from muscle cramping and exhaustion because for Poe the pain was real.

Rey held his gaze steadily when they returned after the break and he could almost hear her ‘you’ve got this’ confirmation in his head. She had been stoic support all match, ignoring the buzz around her and the increasing regularity with which her face was shown on the stadium screens for all to see. Poe hated to think about the commentary and speculation that accompanied those closeups.

He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Ben looked far too rested for his liking as Poe began to serve in the fourth set. He remembered Luke’s advice and was careful of his shoulder drop, and took every cross-court opportunity he could that had Ben running from the baseline. When Poe took a point that caused Ben to yell an expletive in frustration, he knew he was getting to him. The set ended with a 6–4 victory to Poe that meant they would go to a fifth and final set… winner take all.

Poe’s knee had held up during the earlier games, with nothing more than a familiar ache that he could deal with. It wasn’t until they were tied at 4–4 in the all-important fifth set that he landed poorly going after a shot and the ache was replaced with shooting pain that made it hard to concentrate.

_Not now, not now, not now._

If he didn’t get the breakthrough this game Poe knew he’d either drop the next one and lose the championship, or they’d be heading for another tiebreaker that would extend the match even longer. He wasn’t sure which was worse. At least if he lost, the final would be over and he could just stop.

_FUCK THAT. Force him off the baseline. Break his fucking serve._

So he did, stealing the next two points to be up in the game. Then Ben’s temper exploded after Poe sliced an angled shot over the net that he couldn’t reach. He smashed his racket onto the court with a guttural yell, losing him the point and the game. 

Within a split second everything shifted... the crowd was on their feet and all that stood between Poe and the grand slam title was one service game.

His whole tennis career – all of the blood, sweat and tears from the past twenty-something years – would culminate in one last service game.

_This is it. One more and walk away a champion._

He could do it with just four points. After more than four hours in the sapping heat, it needed to end here.

There was no rest break prior to the next game, only time for Ben to get a new racket and receive a code violation for his outburst.

Poe focused and tuned it all out... the radiating pain in his leg, the oppressive humidity, the electric atmosphere of the crowd, the thought of Kes passing out from stress, the look of fiery determination on Ben’s face.

He started with a first serve ace that antagonized Ben even more. They won a point each after that, both from long rallies that made Poe pull up short as his knee threatened to give out completely. He walked gingerly back to the baseline, willing his body to hold together for just a while longer. His next serve was weaker but he realized how flustered Ben was when he made an unforced error and suddenly Poe had the opportunity of two championship points.

The chair umpire had to call repeatedly for quiet, but Poe didn’t hear the excited crowd. He served for the title. Ben had other plans and placed his shots carefully, making Poe run from one side of the court to the other before taking the point.

One championship point left.

The rally had aggravated his leg further and Poe could barely see straight from the agony.

_Just one more._

Poe groaned in anguish as he faulted the first serve. He couldn’t go to deuce and be forced to take two more points. He definitely couldn’t play another game or more if he lost this one. This had to be it. _Please God._ He bounced the ball, gritted his teeth and served.

He swore he didn’t hear anything but his pulse thumping in his ears for a few seconds after he watched his serve streak down the center of the court. Then he realized there was no bark of ‘fault’. The ball was good, leaving a bewildered Ben staring back at him. Poe started the game with an ace and finished with one.

When sound returned to him and the roar of the 23,000 spectators was all there was, he looked around in stunned disbelief. He racket fell from his hand as he raised his arms and the cheering became deafening.

 _I just won the US Open._ The thought was so abstract it didn’t feel remotely real, even as Poe silently repeated it to himself.

He barely remembered what came next. Later there would be flashes of memories that he pieced together once he saw the footage himself.

Ben shook his hand at the net, and was surprisingly gracious.

After thanking the chair umpire Poe went straight to a bawling Kes in the stands and hugged him, before kissing Rey long and hard with no regard for the cameras.

When he was back on the court he stared up at the scoreboard that confirmed his victory.

Solo           6  6  6  4  4

Dameron    4  7  2  6  6

At the official presentation after the match he received the championship trophy and a check for the highest prize money in world tennis, $3.8 million.

The rest was a blur.

What he did remember for the rest of his life, after all the noise, the pain, the exhaustion and the exhilaration that followed that last match point, was the moment he realized that his playing days were over. But everything else that he had to look forward to was just beginning.

 

**Epilogue**

Poe was never a fan of birthdays or getting older, and turning 40 was a milestone he was happy to let pass quietly. Kes, of course, had other plans and had organized a large gathering at the bar for their extended family and friends. It was hard to be churlish when he was surrounded by everyone he loved. Poe had made peace with being the center of attention by the time his father came outside a sheet cake practically on fire with candles, and led them all in singing Happy Birthday.

“You could’ve gone with just the two 4 and 0 candles, Kes,” Poe grumbled.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kes replied with a dismissive wave.

“I definitely can't do this on my own. Come here, baby girl.”

Poe looked around for his energetic three-year-old daughter who ran over so he could scoop her up. “You can help me blow out all the candles. Ready? Go.”

Once all forty were extinguished, Mya paused long enough for her mother to take a photo of them together before squirming out of his grasp so she could play with the other kids. Poe smiled at the picture that Rey showed him on her phone before he began cutting up the cake at Luke’s insistence.

Poe realized 40 wasn’t so bad after all, as he sat next to Rey later while she held Rose and Finn’s sleeping newborn in her arms. It got even better when his wife looked at him and pouted adorably.

“I want another one,” she said and cuddled the baby closer.

He smiled and dropped a kiss on her temple. He doubted it would be anytime soon, not when they were leaving in two weeks for the French Open, and she was coming off a win in Australia in January. Rey may have claimed all four grand slams titles already but she was playing her best tennis since Mya was born and it would be hard for her to stop again just yet.

But he loved that she wanted to have another baby one day, like he did. They could talk about it and make plans later. They had time.

 

O O O

 

While Rey and Luke worked on the practice courts the next day, Poe and Mya were well off to the side where he bounced tennis balls for her to hit with a small racket.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Why can’t I play with Mummy?” she asked airily as she swung and missed the ball.

“Mummy is busy practicing with Tío before we go to Paris.”

“Bonjour!” Mya shouted as she did anytime someone mentioned their upcoming trip.

“That’s right,” Poe said, tossing another ball. “Besides, we can play together until she’s finished.”

“Mummy plays _proper_ tennis.”

“Well, that is true. But that doesn’t mean I can’t teach you how, like I teach the bigger kids. Remember how I showed you to hold your racket?”

Mya let him adjust her arm and grip before pushing him back to ball duty.

“Okay, ready?” He threw her a soft underarm toss.

When she connected with the ball and giggled excitedly Poe straightened up and clapped, grinning from ear to ear.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I’m out! Thanks so, so much to everyone who read this and for your encouragement and support. You’ve been incredibly kind and have made writing this such a joy.
> 
> All the fluffy things for this pairing forever, amen.


End file.
